Sunday, April 02, 2006

My Own Shalott

2 April 2006, 10:10 PM

Precious are the gifts entrusted to me
though I set aside their joy in a moment
to grasp for shades beyond my reach

I grow weary of shadows
Clearer grows my vision
when I see the thing I look upon
and not another
the beauty alotted my eye
and not a reflection in my mirror
my own perception
of that which I do not have

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George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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