Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

{Shakespeare Quote of the Week} No. 5

{Shakespeare Quote of the Week} No. 4

The End and the Beginning

After every war

someone has to clean up.

Things won't

straighten themselves up, after all.

Someone has to push the rubble

to the side of the road,

so the corpse-filled wagons

can pass.

Someone has to get mired

in scum and ashes,

sofa springs,

splintered glass,

and blood rags.

Someone has to drag in a girder

to prop up a wall,

Someone has to glaze a window,

rehang a door.

Photogenic it's not,

and takes years.

All the cameras have left

for another war.

We'll need the bridges back,

and new railway stations.

Sleeves will go ragged

from rolling them up.

Someone, broom in hand,

still recalls the way it was.

Someone else listens

and nods with unsevered head.

But already there are those nearby

starting to mill about

who will find it dull.

From out of the bushes

sometimes someone still unearths

rusted-out arguments

and carries them to the garbage pile.

Those who knew

what was going on here

must make way for

those who know little.

And less than little.

And finally as little as nothing.

In the grass that has overgrown

causes and effects,

someone must be stretched out

blade of grass in his mouth

gazing at the clouds.

--Wislawa Szymborska

Do not live your life in ignorance of the world and all that happens in it. Though it may be easier to go on with our perfect little lives, it is a crime to do so. It is a crime against ourselves, and a crime against those who have to deal with the "clean up" every day while we sit and watch. Remember you are blessed, and remember to do all you can to bless others. If we all try to keep our world a little "cleaner" then everyone will be a little happier.

Unfinished Composition By President Boyd K. Packer

Unfinished Composition

I had a thought the other night,

A thought profound and deep.

It came when I was too worn down,

Too tired to go to sleep.

 

I’d had a very busy day

And pondered on my fate.

The thought was this:

When I was young, I wasn’t 68!

 

I could walk without a limp;

I had no shoulder pain.

I could read a line through twice

And quote it back again.

 

I could work for endless hours

And hardly stop to breathe.

And things that now I cannot do

I mastered then with ease.

 

If I could now turn back the years,

If that were mine to choose,

I would not barter age for youth,

I’d have too much to lose.

 

I am quite content to move ahead,

To yield my youth, however grand.

The thing I’d lose if I went back

Is what I understand.

 

Ten years later, I decided to add a few more lines to that poem:

 

Ten years have flown to who knows where

And with them much of pain.

A metal hip erased my limp;

I walk quite straight again.

 

Another plate holds neck bones fast—

A wonderful creation!

It backed my polio away;

I’ve joined the stiff-necked generation.

 

The signs of aging can be seen.

Those things will not get better.

The only thing that grows in strength

With me is my forgetter.

 

You ask, “Do I remember you?”

Of course, you’re much the same.

Now don’t go getting all upset

If I can’t recall your name.

 

I would agree I’ve learned some things

I did not want to know,

But age has brought those precious truths

That make the spirit grow.

 

Of all the blessings that have come,

The best thing in my life

Is the companionship and comfort

I get from my dear wife.

 

Our children all have married well,

With families of their own,

With children and grandchildren,

How soon they all have grown.

 

I have not changed my mind one bit

About regaining youth.

We’re meant to age, for with it

Comes a knowledge of the truth.

 

You ask, “What will the future bring?

Just what will be my fate?”

I’ll go along and not complain.

Ask when I’m 88!

 

And last year I added these lines:

 

And now you see I’m 88.

The years have flown so fast.

I walked, I limped, I held a cane,

And now I ride at last.

 

I take a nap now and again,

But priesthood power remains.

For all the physical things I lack

There are great spiritual gains.

 

I have traveled the world a million miles

And another million too.

And with the help of satellites,

My journeys are not through.

 

I now can say with all certainty

That I know and love the Lord.

I can testify with them of old

As I preach His holy word.

 

I know what He felt in Gethsemane

Is too much to comprehend.

I know He did it all for us;

We have no greater Friend.

 

I know that He will come anew

With power and in glory.

I know I will see Him once again

At the end of my life’s story.

 

I’ll kneel before His wounded feet;

I’ll feel His Spirit glow.

My whispering, quivering voice will say,

“My Lord, my God, I know.”

 

 

^{-President Boyd K. Packer}

^{LDS General Conference, April 2013}

 

 

^{Read the rest of this fantastic talk at www.lds.org.}

This Moment

A neighborhood.

At dusk.

Things are getting ready

to happen

out of sight.

Stars and moths.

And rinds slanting around fruit.

But not yet.

One tree is black.

One window is yellow as butter.

A woman leans down to catch a child

who has run into her arms

this moment.

Stars rise.

Moths flutter.

Apples sweeten in the dark.

~Eavan Boland

Capturing a moment it time is a very special thing indeed.

Bread

Bread is a gift that has

Come from above.

Bread creates stories.

The ones we all love.

The bread with seaweed,

That signals the escape.

Or a special little cracker

With an imprinted shape.

The boy standing on a porch,

Throwing bread in the rain.

The girl who caught it and

Knew she was saved.

A French Loaf from Arabia

That a monkey couldn't eat.

That loaf was given to children

Who had no shoes for their feet.

The mouthful that caused a

Good man to do time.

The mouthful that caused

A 3 hour long rhyme.

Roasting crumpets and marshmallows

Over holiday break.

Or bread served at a party.

(That was mouldy, no mistake).

A ginger bread man,

Who just couldn't be caught.

(The baker and his wife
Were very distraught).

The brother and sister who

Left a trail in the woods.

A witch almost ate them,

But she never quite could.

Bread is my favourite.
I know it's your's too.
So perhaps you should think
About what it's done for you.

Its the simplest of foods.

It comes from the oldest of times.

Jesus Christ ate it

And blessed it in rhymes.

They say that man cannot
Live by bread alone.
But we still need a slice because
Bread makes life whole.

~HRH~

A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

- Edgar Allan Poe 

Sounds a bit like Inception, doesn't it?

The Art of Disappering

When they say Don't I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say We should get together
say why?

It's not that you don't love them anymore.
You're trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven't seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don't start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.
Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.

~Naomi Shihab Nye

{Shakespeare Quote of the Week} No. 3