The truth comes as conqueror only because we have lost the art of receiving it as guest.

Feeling all Tagoreish today. Feeling like true-profundity and outside my whiny world-view.

If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.

My heart, the bird of the wilderness, has found its sky in your eyes. (what a delicious thing to say!)

While God waits for his temple to be built of love, men bring stones.
(this quote made me want to dish up some Tagore and this quote might be my answer as to how I feel about religion.)

It's Thursday. I am lunching. I am click-clicking down the street in high-heeled sandals and a simple cotton black dress. I have written a poem about New York. I am planning a trip somewhere soon. I am living anyway or in spite or like a John Cage song finds a way to route its river both to and from any sea, it's all the same, going with or fighting gravity is doing something. Anything but stasis, says she.