Thursday, July 07, 2011

Complacent

I no longer wade into the depths;
extend myself to hidden places to find
what's wonderful any more than
I choose to seek out the predators.
By extension, or lack thereof, my beauty
swims at the bottom of an inkwell, free
to avoid notice; bound by complacency.
I sit in sunny paradise with an ice-cold
Yes I Can; Now Everything Is Peaceful
humming softly in my ear.

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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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