The days, the days they break to fade.
What fills them I’ll forget.
Every touch and smell and taste.
This sun, about to set
can never last. It breaks my heart.
Each joy feels like a threat:
Although there’s beauty everywhere,
its shadow is regret.
Still, something in the coming dusk
whispers not to fret.
Don’t matter that we’ll lose today.
It’s not tomorrow yet.
Kate Tempest
Saturday, March 29, 2025
Poem: The Point
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In 2012, Australian caregiver Bronnie Ware wrote a book about her experiences in palliative care. There were five regrets that dying people ...
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The people I distrust most are those who want to improve our lives but have only one course of action in mind. Frank Herbert, ...
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There is not something or someone experiencing experience! You do not feel feelings, think thoughts, or sense sensations any more than you h...