“Here’s to those who wish us well, and the rest can go to hell!”

It is the mark of a great poet to write words that feel as though they have stood witness to your most intimate memory of love.

I had no way of knowing, when I was sitting alone in that tiny bedroom, that in just a few short months, I would meet the love of my life: a man who lived across the ocean from me, in a little house by the sea.

My father was a house,my mother was a home.

Doesn’t your soul remain the age you were when you first fell in love?

Some Time Out The time may not be prime for us, though you are a special person. We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock, in unison.

Sometimes I am caught between poetry and prose, like two lovers I can’t decide between. Prose says to me, let’s build something long and lasting. Poetry takes me by the hand, and whispers, come with me, let’s get lost for awhile.

Every day I measure the weight of my past against the present and feel the drag of what could have been.

It is only the year that is ending. So why does it feel like the world is?

He and I When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I. We are on par. He just is, I just am, and we just are.

In many ways, a book is, in itself, a tiny universe. Each page is like a newly formed galaxy, fashioned from a single, pulsing thought. A book travels for days, for years, sometimes for centuries to meet you at an exact point in time.

Now I know being close to you was never about the proximity.

But how could I have stopped him from taking what was already his?

If you love me for what you see, only your eyes would be in love with me.

But if you don’t love my every flaw, then you mustn’t love me- not at all.

If they were meant to be in your life, nothing cover ever make them leave. If they weren’t, nothing in the world could make them stay.

There are things we sacrifice for love, that we willingly give. But no one who loves you will ever ask you to give up more than you are willing.

Never rest on your laurels. Nothing wilts faster than a laurel sat upon.

A plant has to be watered but when it grows into a tree, it is no longer necessary. Similarly, if the inner consciousness becomes stronger, all these vikaar (distortions) get erased. Vishranti vikar mita (Deep rest removes negativity). There is no rest deeper than meditation.

And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.

Rest is a form of productivity they never wanted you to find.

Take rest; a field that has rested gives a beautiful crop.

There is no Final Resting Place of the Mind.

Rest easy, dear heart grace has come for you.