Poetry

Lose something every day.

Click to enlarge To be a Flower, is profound Responsibility — — Emily Dickinson, Bloom Feedback on this post? Mail me at feedback@janusworx.com P.S. Subscribe to my mailing list! Forward these posts and letters to your friends and get them to subscribe! P.P.S. Feed my insatiable reading habit.

This post was first sent to my newsletter on May 2nd, 2021. You really ought to subscribe :) Snow clouds rolling down a mountain peak, near Se La. Click to embiggen I don’t know the name of this bird, I only imagine his glittering beak tucked in a white wing while the clouds— which he has summoned from the north— which he has taught to be mild, and silent— thicken, and begin to fall...

This post was first sent to my newsletter on May 2nd, 2021. You really ought to subscribe :) New month, new newsletter! :) Let’s get right into it, shall we? An informed look on the why of the farmers agitation. Vivek Kaul’s post on how Bihar fared when they did away with APMCs in 2006, shows why the farmers are up in arms. Read them here, part 1, part 2, & part 3...

This post was first sent to my newsletter on December 14th, 2020. You really ought to subscribe :) When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily. I am so distant from the hope of myself, in which I have goodness, and discernment,...

Now you understand Just why my head’s not bowed. I don’t shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing, It ought to make you proud. I say, It’s in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need for my care. ’Cause I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me. — Maya Angelou P.S. Subscribe to my mailing list!...

I want this glorious verse from Mary Oliver’s poem to be my eulogy, when, you know, my death comes. When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,...