28 MARCH 1976

31 years ago this afternoon a handsome young man read this poem at his Sister’s wedding. She married an amazing, heart happy, wise old soul (even at 22!). The magic of this poem may be one of the reasons they still respect, Love and admire each other beyond measure on this adventure called LIFE. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

From The Prophet
By Khalil Gibran

Then Almitra spoke again and said,
And what of Marriage, master?”
And he answered saying:

You were born together
And together you shall be forevermore
You shall be together
When white wings of death scatter your days
Aye, you shall be together
Even in the silent memory of God
But let there be spaces in your togetherness
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you
Love one another
But make not a bond of love
Let it rather be
A moving sea
Between the shores of your souls
Fill each other’s cup
But drink not from one cup
Give one another of your bread
But eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together
Be joyous
But let each one of you be alone
Even as the strings of a lute are alone
Though they quiver with the same music
Give your hearts
But not into each other’s keeping
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts
And stand together
Yet, not too near together
For the pillars of the temple stand apart
And the oak tree and the cypress grow
Not in each other’s shadow


To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.

To place your ideas…your dreams

Before the crowd, is to risk their loss.

To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to despair.
To try is to risk failure.

But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing and is nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
But they simply cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love and live.

Chained by their certitudes they are a slave.
They have forfeited freedom.
Only a person who risks is truly free.
The greatest risk is to risk nothing at all.

Postcript: We can’t seem to locate the official documentation clarifying exactly who wrote this powerful piece. It has been attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson, T.S. Eliot and Dr. Earl Reun. These Museologists are willing to accept the idea of a collaboration through time and space….because, after all…imagination, inspiration and creativity are timeless.

Mermaid As Muse

John William Waterhouse: A Mermaid - 1901

Once I sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid’s music.

William Shakespeare
A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Death Is Nothing At All

Death Is Nothing At All
By Canon Henry Scott-Holland (1847–1918)
Canon of St. Paul’s Cathedral, England

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and You are You
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!


By: Robert Service

There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,
A race that can’t stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain’s crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don’t know how to rest.

If they just went straight they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But they’re always tired of the things that are,
And they want the strange and new.
They say,
Could I find my proper groove, what a deep mark I would make!”
So they chop and change, and each fresh move
Is only a fresh mistake.

And each forgets as he strips and runs
With a brilliant, fitful pace,
It’s the steady, quiet, plodding ones
Who win in the lifelong race.
And each forgets that his youth has fled,
Forgets that his prime is past.
Till he stands one day, with a hope that’s dead,
In the glare of the Truth at last.

He has failed. He has failed; he has missed his chance;
He has just done things by half.
Life’s been a jolly good joke on him,
And now is the time to laugh.
Ha. Ha! He is one of the Legion Lost;
He was never meant to win;
He’s a rolling stone, and it’s bred in the bone;
He’s a man who won’t fit in.


Rhymes of a Rolling Stone 1912
Just Think!

Just Think!
Some night the stars will gleam
Upon a cold gray stone,
And trace a name with silver beam,
And lo! ‘twill be your own.

That night is speeding on to greet
Your epitaphic rhyme.
Your life is but a little beat
Within the heart of Time.

A little gain, a little pain,
A laugh lest you may moan;
A little blame, a little fame,
A star gleam on your stone.