Fragile.  

     Fine. If that's the way you want it.

      I will walk away with all the finality

      and coldness you accuse me of, 

      but it won't be what you expect--

      a retaliation, a scene, a tangle.

      It will be your jaw

      flapping like an archaic flag

      limp with contemplation.

     ~*JEWEL*~

If--                                                                                                    

If you can keep your head when all about you                            
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,                              
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
* * *                                                                                                                       
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master;
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster                              
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,                            
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build'em up with wornout tools;                                                                               
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
* * *
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;          
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run--
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!     

~*Rudyard Kipling*~     

                                                   ~Fear-is a bird that believes itself into extinction~

I am not from here~           

I am not from here,

my hair smells of the wind

and is full of constellations

I move about this world                     

with a healthy disbelief

and approach my days and my work

with vaporous consequence

a touch that is translucent

but can violate stone.

    ~*JEWEL*~

~Hope-seeing who you really are at your highest is who you will become~

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