I Just Came In From Playing.

Let me catch my breath. . .

Whew, that's better. Now, where was I?

Oh yeah, playing. Today I have a bit of a poem for you. I love poems. They are concentrated bits of someone else. What it might be like to be them and how like me they are.

Here is a bit from "East Coker by T. S. Eliot:

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

Aside from the poem, here is a good example. I cut and pasted this little snippet from a page that had the text in white on a dark background. So when I pasted it here, it did not show up. I did not think it worked so I pasted it again. Finally, I played around with it and saw that the computer did exactly what I told it to (stupid thing) not what I wanted it to do.

Always a way to play. Do read the whole poem when you get the chance.