The Pilot, marooned from his old ship, hit a lick on his blog that reminded me of this Siegfried Sassoon poem, one with some nice images:
In me, past, present, future meet
In me, past, present, future meet
To hold long chiding conference.
My lusts usurp the present tense
And strangle Reason in his seat.
My loves leap through the future’s fence
To dance with dream-enfranchised feet.
In me the cave-man clasps the seer,
And garlanded Apollo goes
Chanting to Abraham’s deaf ear.
In me the tiger sniffs the rose.
Look in my heart, kind friends, and tremble,
Since there your elements assemble.
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This poem makes me realize that the older I get, the more my nine-year-old self seems to appear before me, looking at me silently, as if questioning the way in which I have lived out HER life. I find it very disconcerting! I tell her Hey! I've got another 20 years here to make all your dreams come true ~ so have a little patience, please. xo
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