A great poem is no finish to a man or woman but rather a beginning. - Walt Whitman

Not one is dissatisfied . . . . not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not

The clock indicates the moment - but what does eternity indicate?

When the full-grown poet came,
Out spake pleased Nature (the round impassive globe, with all
its shows of day and night,) saying, He is mine;
But out spake too the Soul of man, proud, jealous and unreconciled,
Nay, he is mine alone; — Then the full-grown poet stood between the two, and took each by the hand;
And to-day and ever so stands, as blender, uniter, tightly holding hands,
Which he will never release until he reconciles the two,
And wholly and joyously blends them.