Sunday morning is a good time to read and contemplate a poem. Today I'm feeling a bit melancholy, thinking about ending-times, and the inevitability of loss and change. Theodore Roethke's poem The Waking fits my mood. It's a poem I like to read out loud: "I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I learn by going where I have to go."
Here's the link to the poem. What do you make of it?
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