They miss the whisper that runs
any day in your mind,
“Who are you really, wanderer?”
and the answer you have to give
no matter how dark and cold
the world around you is:
“Maybe I’m a King.”
– William Stafford
Credits: (1) Quote-Thank you Whiskey River. (2) King’s Throne Chair Image
Related William Stafford Posts:
rare that I get up and beat you to the computer Dave. getting old sucks as I don’t sleep anymore…BUT, the good thing is I have morning messages to read from other insomniacs!
thanks as always for a good start of the day.
Laughing. I did get a late jump Steve. I actually worked out last night (unusual for me). Struggled to get out of bed. Yes, getting old sucks and yes, I don’t sleep anymore either. Thank you for the chuckle this morning as well as you kind words. P.S., post coming on napping. I took one of those yesterday after I returned from work. That threw me out of whack as well.
Dearest King, It is my ardent wish that thou, who art far younger than some of your loyal court, refrain from comments that speak about the occasional surprises that visit one’s body as it ages. 😉
🙂 You are only as old as you think you are Pal. And in your case, that would be right around adolescent stage.
Oh really??? Isn’t your wit droll this morning? Adolescent, thank you very much. I resemble that remark..;-)
Wit droll? Who talks like that? Have you moved into the Shakespearean period in your groggy mist? Nap time eh tu?
I was just trying to remain in character from my earlier post, m’lord. You’re not going to cut me any slack this morning are you? Coffee? Yes – more.
No mercy. No slack.
You’re too good to me.
Now THAT is funny!
Umm reminds me of two beautiful lines,
“Each year harder to live within,
Each year harder to live without…”
ahhhh, very nice. And that source/rest of these beauties would be?
Found it:
MEDITATION ON A GRAPEFRUIT
To wake when all is possible before the agitations of the day have gripped you
To come to the kitchen and peel a little basketball for breakfast
To tear the husk like cotton padding
a cloud of oil misting out of its pinprick pores clean and sharp as pepper
To ease each pale pink section out of its case so carefully
without breaking a single pearly cell
To slide each piece into a cold blue china bowl the juice pooling
until the whole fruit is divided from its skin and only then to eat
so sweet
a discipline
precisely pointless
a devout involvement of the hands and senses a pause
a little emptiness each year harder to live within each year harder to live without
—CRAIG ARNOLD
I am bit late but glad you found it 🙂 it’s one of the piece in your “inspired list” post.
Yes, now I remember. It came from Jeff @ http://lazarusdodge.wordpress.com/2013/05/13/monday-morning/. Terrific blogger.
or Queen
love the grapefruit bit too
🙂 That’s true (on Queen part). Yes, love the grapefruit poem.
you and Mimi were quite entertaining this morning btw
She always starts it. Can’t you tell.
well, I really enjoy your rapport
Funny! She starts it….
Like a adolescent, I know. 🙂