I made a small tribute to our devoted friends who wait for us to come home:
That the stars are
adamant
everyone
understands—
but I won’t give up
seeking joy on each blue wave
or peace below
every gray stone.
If happiness never
comes, what is a life?
A lily withers in
the sand
and if its nature
has failed? The tide
washes the beach at
night.
What is the fly
looking for on the spider’s web?
What does a dayfly
make of its hours?
- Edith Sondergran
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