by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Monday, January 2, 2012
This is a forwarded message from one of my favorite teachers in college, Ms Go.
When DOING everything, just isn't enough,
And we find we're worn down to a thread,
We need to look and take stock of our lives,
And change our behavior instead.
If we're constantly taking on too many duties,
Others problems, other projects, get involved,
When we haven't the TIME to take care of ourselves,
It's in the world outside us we revolve.
We have to take inventory of just who we are?
Consider the things for which we volunteer?
For if we don't take TIME to take care of OUR lives,
It's our well-being that will soon disappear.
Written/copyrighted by Hope Ulch Brown, October 11, 2011