I Seek Wisdom And Foolishness In Equal Measure.

(I just came down from a Zen retreat - a little wiser, a litter more foolish.)

Spring has its hundred flowers,
Autumn its moon,
Summer has its cooling breezes,
Winter its snow.
If you allow no idle concerns
To weight on your heart,
Your whole life will be one
Perennial good season.

- The Golden Age of Zen, p. 286


I found that it was one season -
In the green of the tropical jungle.

- Ghostwise

~~~~~~~~~~"

A little foolishess, enough to enjoy life
and a little wisdom to avoid the errors,
that will do.

- Osho


I went up the hill,
To seek a little more wisdom
And a little more foolishness
In equal measure.

- Ghostwise

Let Love Go, If Go She Will.

(I believe - Let Love Go, If Go She Will.)

Let Love Go, If Go She Will


Let love go, if go she will.
Seek not, O fool, her wanton flight to stay.
Of all she gives and takes away
The best remains behind her still.

The best remains behind; in vain
Joy she may give and take again,
Joy she may take and leave us pain,
If yet she leave behind
The constant mind
To meet all fortunes nobly, to endure
All things with a good heart, and still be pure,
Still to be foremost in the foremost cause,
And still be worthy of the love that was.
Love coming is omnipotent indeed,
But not Love going. Let her go. The seed
Springs in the favouring Summer air, and grows,
And waxes strong; and when the Summer goes,
Remains, a perfect tree.

Joy she may give and take again,
Joy she may take and leave us pain.
O Love, and what care we?
For one thing thou hast given, O Love, one thing
Is ours that nothing can remove;
And as the King discrowned is still a King,
The unhappy lover still preserves his love.

- Robert Louis Stevenson


Let Love Go,
If you want Love to still remain.

- Ghostwise.

Memory Of Winter In The Heat Of Summer.

“Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.”

- Kevin Arnold


And when you lose them, you wish you could also lose the memories.

- Ghostwise

~~~~~~~~~"

“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.”

- James Matthew Barrie


And winter in the heat of summer.

- Ghostwise

Those Dark Days Of Autumn.

There is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky,
Which through the summer is not heard or seen,
As if it could not be, as if it had not been!

- Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822),


In summer
I have no thoughts of autumn.

- Ghostwise

~~~~~~~~~~"

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

- Robert Frost (1874-1963)


In autumn
I reacquaint myself with my sorrow.

- Ghostwise

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?

Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?
Thou are more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd:
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

- William Shakespeare


Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day?
For that is how I remember you:

In the lines I wrote in my memory.

- Ghostwise.

~~~~~~~~~~"

I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;

- Edna St. Vincent Millay


And I carried your summer
To the depth of winter

Till it was buried under the snow.

- Ghostwise