I read something beautiful this morning. I’ll share the stanza with you here. If you have a chance, read the entire poem:
“I cannot look at forsythia now
without loss, or joy for you.
You step delicately
into the wild world
and your real prize will be
the frantic search.
Want everything. If you break
break going out not in.
How you live your life I don’t care
but I’ll sell my arms for you,
hold your secrets for ever.”
-To a Sad Daughter
Michael Ondaatje (1984)
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