For my ice-bound friend, something to read. :) I liked the Writer's Almanac this morning, mostly due to the poem:
Having Confessed, by Patrick Kavanagh
Having confessed he feels
That he should go down on his knees and pray
For forgiveness for his pride, for having
Dared to view his soul from the outside.
Lie at the heart of the emotion, time
Has its own work to do. We must not anticipate
Or awaken for a moment. God cannot catch us
Unless we stay in the unconscious room
Of our hearts. We must be nothing,
Nothing that God may make us something.
We must not touch the immortal material
We must not daydream to-morrow's judgment—
God must be allowed to surprise us.
We have sinned, sinned like Lucifer
By this anticipation. Let us lie down again
Deep in anonymous humility and God
May find us worthy material for His hand.
There's much to say about this, but the babies are all screaming at the moment so I'll just let you draw your own conclusions.
In the meantime, a reminder:
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind? --Percy Bysshe Shelley ;)