Death the Leveler

The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armor against Fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings:
Sceptre and Crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill:
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
They tame but one another still:
Early or late
They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuriong breath
When they, pale captives, creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow;
Then boast no more your mighty deeds!
Upon Death’s purple altar now
See where the victor-victim bleeds.
Your heads must come
To the cold tomb:
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.

James Shirley

November 11th, 2005

Yoga cure

This morning reading the articles in the latest Yoga Journal I am reinspired to start my home practice on a more regular basis. I have lost pace inthe past month. But I feel that I need rejuvination and the need for yoga. I need a purging more than anything else. I need a fresh start knowing that what I do this day forward with not be haunted by the past. .!! Is that possible, can I just reboot life like a computer and hope that it has cleared it memory or more likely recover and reformat?? But even then if you need to preserver the good of the past some of what you want to get rid of all stays. That is inevitable……………

November 10th, 2005