Hi just read something about the Moon Bears and am now in tears, what kind of hateful people do we have on planet earth, don't really understand what bile is used for and probably don't want to really know. It seems as so many people are losing their minds especially when it comes to cruelty. These poor Moon Bears in Asia I presume treated in such a manner, kept in a crush cage forever - I know now without a shadow of a doubt that the majority of earth people have gone mad for sure. Those poor little bears, wish I was bilionairor such but of course if wishes were fishes I'd have basket ful which I don't and can just take care of myself - wouldn't go to one of those old folk cages anyway they wouldn't take me for I have no money, ha and with that have the last laugh on those greedy monsters. All our creatures are dying because of us, doesn't that just make you all tingly all over?? Not me because I consider all creatures of which humans are one of those creatures for sure and guess if they can treat them rotten when somebody does something to them, well so be it says I, just feel the pain and you will know how our beautiful four legged creatures feel, and it ain't no fun.
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Have an awesome blissful day!
Brent
Salutation to the Dawn
Look to this day!
For it is life, the very life of life.
In its brief course
Lie all the verities and realities of your existence:
The bliss of growth
The glory of action
The splendor of beauty
For yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow only a vision
But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well, therefore to this day!
Such is the salutation to the dawn.
- Kalidasa, Indian Poet
Katherine Mansfield
Grant me the moment, the lovely moment
That I may lean forth to see
The other buds, the other blooms,
The other leaves on the tree:
That I may take into my bosom
The breeze that is like his brother,
But stiller, lighter, whose faint laughter
Exhoes the joy of the other.
Above on the blue and white cloud-spaces
There are small clouds at play.
I watch their remote, mysterious play-time
In the other far-away.
Grant I may hear the small birds singing
the song that the silence knows...
(The Light and the Shadow whisper together,
The lovely moment grows,
Ripples into the air like water
Away and away without sound,
And the little girl gets up from her praying
On the cold ground)
I'm glad you and I are friends, too! Do you ever get up to Portland?
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