Had you been able to guess bits of my destiny, Perhaps you would bear your mediocrity with more ease. - Czesław Miłosz

When it hurts we return to the banks of certain rivers. — Czeslaw Milosz, from “I Sleep A Lot,” The Collected Poems 1931 — 1987. (The Ecco Press; First Edition edition 1988)

The purpose of poetry is to remind us how difficult it is to remain just one person, for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors, and invisible guests come in and out at will.

On the day the world ends A bee circles a clover, A fisherman mends a glimmering net.