Soon I'll be changing the look of my blog, since my mother has complained that the lily is getting old. Soon, Mom, soon.
I was reading in my book of poetry again last night, and I realized I've forgotten how much I love poetry. I've not really touched it for months, and skimming the pages last night brought back so many wonderful thoughts. I found some pictures in the book from a lifetime ago, and it was odd to see my reaction-- or rather, my lack of reaction. I found some pictures that two years ago would have made me smile, a year ago, would have made me cry, and last night, barely registered in the thought process, except that I realized my lack of reaction. I guess that is evidence of how our lives go on, how one path ends, and another begins, and we soon find ourselves a very different person than we set out to be. I trust God, and I am so grateful that His leading is best. If I can closely follow his path, then it will be better than I can imagine. But it seems that in this time of life, my path seems to be changing direction far too often. It seems that I'll find some goal, some dream to work toward, and within a matter of months, it's gone, replaced by something new. I'm weary of the changes. I'm weary of finding everything temporary. I know it must be. We are strangers on this earth, and cannot look for our belonging here. Still, at times, the thought is overwhelming. So, I keep walking, and looking for the next direction, and wondering how long it will last.
One poem really caught my attention. An excerpt from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night entitled "Music".
If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
That strain again; -- it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing, and giving odor.
2 Thoughts.
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Ok maybe I can't sing!
. anyway, have a great week. 
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