in a pair of Oriental Octets |
Yesterday is gone, but a new day has arrived. Whatever it brings, we must be ready with plan to choreograph the dance of fleeting moments-- good, bad, or indifferent-- that Time throws our way. When tomorrow comes, I'll get up and start again, if God is willing. Seasons come and seasons go. In the winter of my life, I keep marching on, preparing for what comes next on this great journey. Notes on the Oriental Octet form of poetry ▶︎ |