Sunday, February 24, 2013

Jack of All Trades

24 February 2013

I'd like to drop the sentimentality,
write something honest. I'd like to share the moment
when the baby was enjoying her bubble bath.
I was listening to Billy Joel, remembering
how it felt, years ago, to be a pianist--an amateur
as always, but a musician nonetheless.
It's very like being a carpenter,
a silversmith,
a seamstress for a moment,
though it's hard now to find a moment to decide
which point of interest to choose, where to excel.
I'm still a Jack of all the trades I encounter,
a master of none of them. Even this poem
comes haltingly, and I second guess the content,
the form,
the poet.

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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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