“It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson (via crashinglybeautiful)
To what are we near? To death, or that display
which is not yet? For what would be clay to clay
had not the god feelingly formed the figure
which grows between us. But understand for sure:
this is my body which is ressurected
Now gently deliver it from the burning grave
into that heaven which in you I crave:
that from it survival be boldly affected.
You young place of ascension deep.
You dark breeze of summery pollen.
When its thousand spirits romp madly all in
you, my stiff corpse again grows soft asleep.