"Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring barque, Whose worth's unknown although his height be taken. Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom."

This is the first sonnet I ever heard. That was several years ago. But just a few days ago, someone sent me the whole collection of Shakespeare's sonnets for my birthday. I've never even told them I liked Shakespeare. It's funny that they knew I'd appreciate it. Shakespeare's sonnets are so wonderful at explaining the emotions, feelings, and thoughts involved in love and friendship.

Now are these words enough to believe someone cares for you? Remember when Willoughby said this to Marianne? Remember what his actions were later?

The other day someone unexpected expressed a liking for this piano piece. I told him about a lovely rendering of the sonata by Summer, a lyric soprono. Her version is called Mal di Luna; she unites the melody of the piano piece with an Italian sonnet. Inspiring.

I discovered this photograher: Cindy Mead today. A thing of beauty is such a joy. This photograph seems to be a song to the night. A full moon shone through my window two nights ago. Memory.



The moonlight dances through tree limbs As I release you to the skies..With slow fluttering wings you climb high..then higher..Until you are small to my eyes.Say hello to the stars for me, goddess of the moon.

I've been in the valley. I felt safe there.

Being in the valley... I was surrounded on two sides by hills covered with dark trees. Up on one hill far to the east, there was the remains of a castle built by a king for his soon to be queen. A river flowed southward. As I walked across the bridge, a breeze wafted down from the north east. Most of the time, it was a gentle breeze. Often the sun shone, but the clouds were friendly -- keeping the sun from being unkind.

So whenever I think of a valley, I smile and take a deep contented breath.

I know other people like the mountain top. I feel so... lonely up there. It's amazing. It takes tremendous effort on my part to get there, to the mountain top. It's painful actually. And once I reach it, I see people jumping around from rock to rock. I take one look around and instantly sit down in fear.

I don't think I'll ever be like them. But I think I understand them, And even if I don't, I'll love them anyways. (Romans 15)

Valley of Vision (Bob Kauflin)


When You lead me to the valley of vision
I can see You in the heights
And though my humbling wouldn’t be my decision
It’s here Your glory shines so bright
So let me learn that the cross precedes the crown
To be low is to be high
That the valley’s where You make me more like Christ

Let me find Your grace in the valley
Let me find Your life in my death
Let me find Your joy in my sorrow
Your wealth in my need
That You’re near with every breath
In the valley