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Sunday Poetry



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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