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