Monday ~ May 28, 2018

I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely
 ambition
was that their lips, still touched
 with fire,
should tell of the Spirit clothed
 from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the spring
 branches
The desires falling across their
 bodies like blossoms.

(Stephen Spender, 1909 - 1995)