Enough? So many celebrations, so much expressive music, dancing and drinking, so many entertaining plays, eye-beguiling movies, so much art, poetry, ballet, opera. I sit meditating when I'm not reading or writing. Or I'm feeding, walking, playing with my dog. That -- and family -- fills my time to bursting. Still I yearn. Why? Isn't this simple life enough? Who and what more could I let in? Or, rather, what should I let out?
Related Subjects
Poetry