Lisa

“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.”
― William Ernest Henley, Invictus

“Paracelsus

At times I almost dream
I too have spent a life the sages’ way,
And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance
I perished in an arrogant self-reliance
Ages ago; and in that act a prayer
For one more chance went up so earnest, so
Instinct with better light let in by death,
That life was blotted out — not so completely
But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,
Dim memories, as now, when once more seems
The goal in sight again.”
― Robert Browning

“Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?”
― Lord Alfred Tennyson

“This Bitter Language

I know your streets, sweet city,

I know the demons and angels that flock

and roost in your boughs like birds.

I know you, river, as if you flowed

through my heart.

I am your warrior daughter.

There are letters made of your body

as a fountain is made of water.

There are languages

of which you are the blueprint

and as we speak them

the city rises.”
― Elka Cloke