Being Content With What You Have Already

The Nineteenth Century Was The Last Moment In History When A Relatively Educated Layperson Could Follow What Was Going On In The World Of Science And Invention To A Wide Degree. Also, There Were No "professionals". This Was A Time When Amateur Explorers, Naturalists And Enthusiasts Were Are Still Making Major Contributions To Progress.

You Know, I Think That Allowing Somebody, One Mere Person To Believe That He Or She Is Like, The Vessel You Know, Like The Font And The Essence And The Source Of All Divine, Creative, Unknowable, Eternal Mystery Is Just A Smidge Too Much Responsibility To Put On One Fragile, Human Psyche. It's Like Asking Somebody To Swallow The Sun.

It Is Merely This World That Is Chaotic, Bringing Changes To Us All That Nobody Could Have Anticipated.

One Of These Poems I Wrote After Having Been Here Only A Month. The Other, I Wrote This Morning. In The Space Between The Two Poems, I Have Found Acres Of Grace

Until I Can Feel As Ecstatic About Having A Baby As I Felt About Going To New Zealand To Search For Giant Squid, I Cannot Have A Baby.