If I wash the sheets
My tear stained pillow cases,
Will it go away?
Art Prescription: I should be madly rushing about to do my final Surtex prep, and I will because the show must go on. Life grabs your attention in not so subtle ways. Stops you in your tracks and reaches into your core beliefs. A stray cat has touched my life. After or during a good cry, I always, always turn to poetry for a tincture for the soul, words that speak of the human reality of love and loss.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should every come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
