...anyway, the opening poem in Thirst has been on my mind for days.

My work is loving the world....

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and not yet half-perfect? Let me
  keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
   astonished.



Now, back to my work at being astonished.

Peace,
Marya