The teacher suggests:

        the onlooker considers;

            the student memorizes;

                    the disciple embodies.

Assumptions dissolve.

Text ~guyatree 

                                                                                             ~ Vid Via

(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)

W hen you are old and grey and full of sleep,

 And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

  And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

   Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

  And loved your beauty with love false or true,

    But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

      And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

  Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

    And paced upon the mountains overhead

      And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

.

                                                                             ~W.B. Yeats

                                                                                                       (courtesy The Voices Project)

(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)

`Love is reckless; not reason.
Reason seeks a profit.‘

—

.

                                    Love comes on strong,

consuming herself, unabashed.

                                    Yet, in the midst of suffering

Love proceeds like a millstone,

                    hard surfaced and straightforward.

.

 Having died of self-interest,

                                 she risks everything and asks for nothing.

.

Love gambles away every gift God bestows.

.

 Without cause God gave us Being;

              without cause, give it back

again.

                                                               (courtesy aal88)

For friends and lovers

.

                              who see no differences.

(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)

Far or forgot to me is near;
Shadow and sunlight are the same;
The vanished gods to me appear;
And one to me are shame and fame.

If the red slayer think he slays,

       Or if the slain think he is slain,

                  They know not well the subtle ways

      I keep, and pass, and turn again.

.

Far or forgot to me is near;

           Shadow and sunlight are the same;

                     The vanished gods to me appear;

                                And one to me are shame and fame.

.

They reckon ill who leave me out;

      When me they fly, I am the wings;

I am the doubter and the doubt,

      I am the hymn the Brahmin sings.

.

The strong gods pine for my abode,

      And pine in vain the sacred Seven;

             But thou, meek lover of the good!

                        Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.

.

.~R.W. Emerson: “Brahma”

                                                               image sourced 

chungy47:

Rise above it, you’re stronger.

(If you are pals, let ‘em know?)