Sometimes, by accident when reading, or talking, or listening, I come upon words and ideas, or silence; and then what I see or hear can be enough.  Sufficient.  Sustainable, sustaining.

May I offer Will Shakespeare’s 29th sonnet in this sense, and invite you to read it aloud with a song in your heart:

When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d,

Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;

For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Oh, my.  Isn’t that beautiful.

Enjoy,

M