The book is made of glass and I look through it and see more books. Many glass books. Is someone speaking? A muffled voice is telling me to make soup which I think means I am loved. What other kind of cup fills itself? Can there be a cup of cup? A cup of itself? Outside a black squirrel has wiggled to the end of a very skinny branch. When the squirrel breathes the whole tree shakes, as if the squirrel were the soul of the tree. Have you ever felt like such a tree? Not sayin' I have. (Source: POEM-A-DAY from the Academy of American Poets) --------------------------------********------------------------------------------------ This is such brilliant poetry that howsoever I wish to and whoever I am thinking of right now absolutely fits into different lines! A song, a verse, a few lines that make my heart jump up and down! I am a free bird, and yet I wish to perch on a branch someday which will be surrounded by a cool shade with a tumbler o...
"Some of the sweetest things in life are through greatest struggling battles"