Early Mornings….

I awoke at 4:00 this morning, hearing noises. Being curious, I got up and looked out to the street.  A strange car was parked across the road from our home.  I turned on the outside light to let them know I was aware of them, and headed back to bed.  To no avail, I was awake.  Looked at my phone, read some news, and picked up the archaeology magazine and finished up articles.  The hours passed…

More noises, 3 police cars surrounding the car across the street.  This circus continued until 7:30, when the owner of the (now obvious) stolen car was driven up by the police.  He takes it away, and the young man who had been passed out in the stolen vehicle was frisked, drugs found, and hauled away.

I had surrendered to my wakefulness at around 6:00, and got up.  Got an orange juice, and started to work on a piece of art I had put away a decade ago.  Progress!  Lots moving, and to start the day with art.

The sun rolls up, Mary awakes, and I make cappuccinos for the pair of us.

I think my sleep cycle is changing. 🙂

Anyway, an early day it seems. … The doves are in the backyard, at the feeder, and the world awakes.

G
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A Woman’s Honour

Love bade me hope, and I obeyed;
Phyllis continued still unkind:
Then you may e’en despair, he said,
In vain I strive to change her mind.

Honour’s got in, and keeps her heart,
Durst he but venture once abroad,
In my own right I’d take your part,
And show myself the mightier God.

This huffing Honour domineers
In breasts alone where he has place:
But if true generous Love apppears,
The hector dares not show his face.

Let me still languish and complain,
Be most unhumanly denied:
I have some pleasure in my pain,
She can have none with all her pride.

I fall a sacrifice to Love,
She lives a wretch for Honour’s sake;
Whose tyrant does most cruel prove,
The difference is not hard to make.

Consider real Honour then,
You’ll find hers cannot be the same;
‘Tis noble confidence in men,
In women, mean, mistrustful shame.
– Lord John Wilmot
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The world but seems to be

The world but seems to be
yet is nothing more
than a line drawn
between light and shadow.
Decipher the message
of this dream-script
and learn to distinguish time
from Eternity.
– by Fakhruddin Iraqi
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