Here I am, Cassandra. And this is my city under ashes. And these are my prophet's staff and ribbons. And this is my head full of doubts. - Wisława Szymborska

Funny little thing. How could she know that even despair can work for you if you’re lucky enough to outlive it. I’d

They aren't obliged to vanish when we're gone. They don't have to be seen while sailing on.

A Note

Life is the only way
to get covered in leaves,
catch your breath on the sand,
rise on wings;

to be a dog,
or stroke its warm fur;

to tell pain
from everything it's not;

to squeeze inside events,
dawdle in views,
to seek the least of all possible mistakes.

An extraordinary chance
to remember for a moment
a conversation held
with the lamp switched off;

and if only once
to stumble upon a stone,
end up soaked in one downpour or another,

mislay your keys in the grass;
and to follow a spark on the wind with your eyes;
and to keep on not knowing
something important.