You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Read the whole poem, here.
Posted: 2025 Mar 08
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That’s a super picture!
Tom
Tom – Thanks. It gives me the sense of hanging on for dear life, although I suppose the seeds are actually ready to go.
Here’s another paradox — there can be perfection in imperfection.
Jim T
Jim – 🙂