Poetry

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope

For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,

For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith

But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

T.S. Eliot, “Four Quartets”

 For one human being to love another, that is the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test of proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.

 Rainer Maria Rilke 

Healing

I am not a mechanism, an assembly of various sections.

And it is not because the mechanism is working wrongly,

that I am ill. I am ill because of the wounds to the soul,

to the deep emotional self.

And the wounds to the soul

take a long, long time, only time can help.

And patience, and a certain difficult repentance,

long, difficult repentance, realization of life’s mistake,

and the freeing of oneself

from the endless repetition of the mistake

which mankind at large has chosen to sanctify.

 D. H. Lawrence