Nothing is ever really lost, nor can be lost,
No birth, identity, form; no object of the world.
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain.
Ample are time and space; ample the fields of Nature.
The body, sluggish, aged, cold; the embers left from earlier fires,
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again; ~ Walt Witman
It’s a funny thing about life: if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it.
~W. Somerset Maugham
It is with a handful of scattered quotes that I start this monologue. Having reached into the ashes of failed plans, charred expectations and grey dusted aspiration, I clutch at a few kernels of hope only to feel the embers burning my palm. This is an act of sedition. A refusal to bow down, to resign to the practical, to lower my head in surrender to the powers that be.
Instead I will cup my hands, blow on these embers and see what new flame will come to life.
igorgoldkind
The Poesie of Igor Goldkind – Reciting Truth to Power 