The Soundtrack and Score for 2012.

(The wandering imperfect pilgrim wondered about concerns that have been expressed about the sometimes-esoteric ethereal type constructs of previous blog posts. So he let go at the end of the Mayan’s calendar and it sparked a different type of reflection. ….)

Doesn’t it seem that sometimes we are living in some type of movie? Sometimes it seems as though the movie is a blend of comedy, tragedy, adventure and an almost science fictional account of some dreamlike experience. But regardless of the scope and depth of events where there seems to be times of gentle smiles, tears, nostalgic memories and prayerful reflections, - through it all there was one aspect that is common and persistent…. music. Movie scores that are original or adapted are usually constructed by someone who is not a major player or character in the play. If done well the music and sometimes lyrics of theme songs and ongoing pieces throughout the movie either set or reflect the tone. And the pilgrim thinks

"What of our own play?"

Isn’t interesting how hearing some musical piece from the past sparks a memory about a time, an event, person(s) or locations. The original emotions are relived all over again. Sometimes it is the melody. Sometimes it is the lyrics. Sometimes it is the instrumentation or theme. Sometimes it is the beat that magically gets one’s foot to tap and the urge to get up and dance is fueled.  Sometimes one can’t help but to sing along. Sad, happy, melancholic, spiritual, meditative and uplifted moods are mystically conjured when the first series of opening notes of a song are heard and seep into the deepest hidden crevices of our souls.

How is it that when one is driving along some winding road to nowhere in a somber mood and while flipping through some new unknown radio station on a satellite network suddenly seems to get locked in and that perfect song from way back when starts or a new piece unknown and unfamiliar catches your attention? It is a song with lyrics and tempo that suits and sooths your spirit. It is as if….

And then there's that unforeseen accidental coincidental circumstance when a particular emotion begins to fire up suddenly some song is heard off in the distance with apropos lyrics and instrumentation that nurtures the present spirit. It is almost as if….

Who gave the artists the idea for that arrangement of those notes? It has been said that all music is just a series of a combination of tones, pitches and rhythms separated by silence. It is said that it is the space and timing of the silence that makes these tones and instruments musical.  It has been said that we should  learn more about the power of silence. Who is this silence really? (But that’s another reflection.)  However, how did those few selected words that fill dictionaries of hundreds of languages find their way to accompany the musical melodies to express specifically what you were feeling or experiencing at that very moment? Or, how is it that these grace-filled emotional architects are able to give birth to the most perfect synergy of words and music to inspire or mirror your heart?

It’s a mystery. It is as if….

“What of this last year? How often and how many songs or musical pieces seemed to mysteriously transcend the spirit? It is not about what song or musical piece was favored or liked but those pieces that actually fueled the spirit and reflected the tone of the odyssey for these past twelve months…. and, by the way who is behind all this in the first place. …that really matters," the wandering pilgrim thought.

"I need to create a list of those songs ....and maybe even burn a CD of my soundtrack/score to 2012"

 Well, the first part of his task was not too complicated as technology now has the ability to count and record how often a musical piece was listened to. He appreciated and delighted in all the songs he had heard that moved him over the course of the year but there were those that stood out from the rest. Also, it was not difficult to be able to identify the new discoveries of unique surprises that were unplanned and unexpected and yet seemed to musically fill a void or express what he was unable to articulate himself. He began to create his list of his soundtrack for 2012. Though he was tempted to keep all the songs that were “favorites” on the annual soundtrack list it really wasn’t laborious for him to limit this list to those pieces that mystically played a significant role in the mystery of his existence in the universe. Somehow the sacrosanct soundtrack list flowed from pen to paper for his heart knew each song in advance . It was if….

The Wandering Imperfect Pilgrim’s Soundtrack/Score for 2012

Daughter -  Loudon Wainright

Father and Daughter – Paul Simon

I knew the bride  Dave Edmunds

Circle Game – Joni Mitchell

Urge for Going – Tom Rush version of J. Mitchell

Land of Hopes and Dreams - Bruce

We take care of our own - Bruce

Stay young go dancing  - Death Cab for Cutie

Hopeless Wanderer - Mumford and sons

Persuasion - Richard Thompson

Born to sing – Van Morrison

Days Like this  - Van Morrison

Brown Eyed Girl – Van Morrison

Keep me in your heart – Warren Zevon

A time to say goodbye – performed by Andrea Bocelli

One of these days  - Neil Young and Billy Frissell’s versions

The Promised Land - Bruce

Alone again  - Calexico

Falling slowly  - from the movie "Once"

Better off today – David Arn

Save it for a Rainy Day  - Jayhawks

That’s what makes you strong – Jesse Winchester

Show me the place – Leonard Cohen

The Walk – Meyer Hawthorne

Christmas Day – Paul Simon

Fear of fallin  - Robbie Roberston

Whats so funny about Peace,Love and Understanding  -  Elvis Costello

Here comes my man -  National Anthem

Something you got - Jerry Douglas w Eric Clapton

Windfall  - Son Volt

Si Tu vois ma mere – from "Midnight in Paris" Soundtrack

When your minds made up  - from the movie “Once”

Got to be better in a little while – Eric Clapton

Take it to the people  - Woggles

Soneto de la Noche – performed by Conspirare

All things Must Pass – George Harrison

Louie Louie – The Kingsmen
Until I Die - Beach Boys

He wondered about the miracle of different soundtracks for his family and friends. He wondered about the songs he played and sang.
 
And the Beach Boys could be heard singing off in the tall distance….”Add some music to your day”

  

I hope your own soundtrack was exactly what you needed and that the New Year brings you much peace and joy!

                Happy New Year!

 -The Wandering Imperfect Pilgrim 12-31-12

        

"The Only Truth is Music"
         - Jack Kerouac








amdg

In Excelsis Deo

And so it begins all over again .The end of a book. The end of a season . The end of a year . The end of and era . Yet, nothing never seems to end , you know , with each ending there is a beginning.

New pages, clear and clean readied to be filled.The pen in hand hesitant and yet ready to script out what is not yet known or experienced. It is not just a new chapter,it is a new book! A new idea! An original never before thought of concept! Maybe it is a sequel? Maybe it is part of some undiscovered obscure trilogy? Maybe it is just another episode already clear in the divine eye but it just needs to be written by some pilgrim spirit.

Regrets? Not many.  Choices continue to be discerned. What chord to strum? What song to sing? What book to read?  What words to pull down from the heavens to speak or write never to be erased or forgotten?  When to let go and let it be. How to be present. How to be loving and to be exactly who we are intended to be. Has this Odyssey been a series of fruitless self-centered adventures with a few uplifting unplanned blessings?... Or, is this passage a pilgrimage required for all wanderers to gain redemption?

Is questioning faith, faith?

They say that the season of Advent is a celebration of “waiting and preparation.” The pilgrim tries to wait without wondering too much about how the renewed celebration of the birth of love will rekindle his own fire as he prepares the hearth.

Billy said, “and so it goes.”

Dorothy said, “There’s no place like home.”

Saints John and Paul said, “The love you take is equal to the love you make.”

Pedro said, “God is love .”

The pilgrim doesn’t need to look under an ornamented tinseled small multi-colored lighted Douglas fir to understand what Ignatius meant when he said

“consider all gifts and be grateful.”

He is … I am.

Merry Christmas to everyone ….

 

                                             What if Money Didn't Matter ?

…..and remember the poor!

 http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/11/29/larry-deprimo-nypd-cop-gives-homeless-boots_n_2209178.html

amdg

This Bird has Flown – Part One – She’s The One !

“I'm gonna watch you shine

Gonna watch you grow

Gonna paint a sign

So you'll always know

As long as one and one is two

There could never be a father

Who loved his daughter more than I love you"

               - Father and Daughter, Paul Simon                              

In the beginning the word was good and yet the wandering pilgrim misunderstood. Eventually he was enlightened as to how everything was getting better all the time. They say Christmas is a time to celebrate the great gift of love and life. It was eight and twenty years ago this December 25 that the companion who brought life into the world brought home with her pilgrim partner the great gift. Realizing Jeremiah was a bullfrog they sang in great - filled celebration

“Joy to the world

All the boys and girls now

Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea

Joy to you and me “

Number one’s arrival was also the birth of incalculable changes and transformations within and without.  “I feel fine” in lullaby tempo became the little girl’s favorite as she was rocked and rolled to sleep. She was always considered a Jersey Girl even though it would be eleven years before she would see the boss in person. During that event she never sat and never turned back.

The pilgrim hoped that the turning her to bat lefty and wearing number nine would somehow be instrumental in some type of success. It led to her becoming a pen pal of the splendid splinter.  Father and daughter made her fist pilgrimage to the great cathedral in Boston just before he was cracked open like a lobster at Anthony’s. One plus one did equal two and always will. Catching a trout on her first cast ever seems like it happened yesterday!

While coaching her on soccer pitches , in the hardwood gymacafetoriums with hoops  and taking the helm of the Ascent sailing he had hoped that the lessons would apply to the greater journey. She always played hard and with joy… and grew in wisdom more than he ever dreamed.

From the beginning of the presence of number two it would be obvious that the two hawk hill girls would need no inspection or explanation as to how their bond will never die.  The first one has always made her intentions of love and protection of and for the second one very clear. That love was and remains reciprocated.

And now that path marked by rapid turning calendars and seasons has finally come to that fork, the point of separation.  The pilgrim is heard complaining in the night how google maps does not provide advice on how to maneuver changes in the landscape. The little one who once danced freely from here to there to almost any song that moved her spirit is now the focused woman respected and loved by fellow trekkers trying to make their mark. That moment has arrived where she and her new companion,

“a good choice” , the pilgrim says, “as long as he keeps his head down and swings slowly and plays with integrity ,”

 are about to join together taking that new path on their own new sacred adventure together. 

So the imperfect pilgrim quietly smiles hopeful that though he was not present all ways she somehow knows that she was and will always be in his heart. The advent of the new day conjures a predawn reflection as attempts are made to be present to the inevitable moment…joyous and peace-filled - he recalls how this was all  anticipated in the song  welcoming her  to the world

“There will come a time

I know

Where I will have to let go

And find a different way to show

How  I love you Lindsay”

                                                       She's the One

                                                       http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpDIfcmQb3Q

                                                       Father and daughter

                                                        http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtT3xSSKmMQ

                                                        I knew The Bride

                                                        http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8-gZ7V4Z_Y

Congratulations - Joe and Lindsay

                                                                                  Leigh and Lindsay at Fenway

amdg

This bird has flown: Part Two – the Brown Eyed Girl

 So the imperfect pilgrim sits in the solemn solitude of silence watching the fresh new autumnal breeze loosen the orange yellowed red leaves. Geese honk heading home as portrayed in  Whyte’s wedge wings across the heavens burning their freedom into his own heart. Squirrels scamper this way and that gathering as many of the now land based acorns before anyone else notices.  Voices from past soccer fields to the words of gatherings of poets in the woods echo in the distance and Packers and sox still reign supreme. The hands of the flawless Swiss made watch tired from years of exacting rapid constant movement cease their efforts. Albums of memories fill the mega-chip banks of his weathered hard drive .Though expected , the new season seemed to arrive without warning.

He wonders if the second one’s launching has been adequately prepared and provisioned. Has he taught her enough? Has she listened? How could have he been more effective in his mentoring and modeling? Are the charts for the course accurate? Will she be confident when the winds shift and tides come and go? Will she call if she thinks she’s lost?  Did she know how much he loved her and how he tried to show it? Did he become overconfident with the perceived success of the first one’s departure from the safe harbor?

 The free bird is taking flight as a certified healer commissioned to join Florence and the Nightingales serving the broken hearts on the beast infested island of fading monuments.

The pilgrim believes that his prayers have always been answered and is hopeful that  they not be ignored now.They are all that are left.

“Please bless, protect, nourish and guide this young woman’s path and spirit all ways. Help her know the great love and peace around and within her.”

The nest empty and the carousel continues to move round. He recalls the museum man once observing, as they toked cohibas looking to the constellations one clear night on a plantation dock,

“The universe continues to expand. Every second something is changing. Something is being born.  Something is dying.  Nothing is ever the same. We can’t stop change. We just need to just be and let go.”

So the imperfect pilgrim sits in the solemn solitude of silence present to a new chapter, humbled and grateful for the undeserved grace and gifts. His companion hands him another cup and he responds with a small hope-filled smile

“Our baby’s gone.”

Poem - The  Journey by David Whyte

http://www.panhala.net/Archive/Journey.htmlDaid Whyte's Journey

For Leigh...wishing you the best in all things all ways ! Love you ! xox :)

amdg

Golf Lesson No. 9 - Being Present and Enjoy Yourself

    “To thine own self be true "- Hamlet, William Shakespeare                 

BILL MOYERS: Do you ever have the sense of... being helped by hidden hands?

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: All the time. It is miraculous. I even have a superstition that has grown on me as a result of invisible hands coming all the time - namely, that if you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be.

                               - Power of the Myth, Joseph Campbell

The roving two sailors from the Gdansk Yacht and Golf Club debated once about the value of smacking the snot out of a solid dimpled ball around some manicured field.

“Golf is golf” the king’s ancestor protested “and there is nothing more to it. No soul is more pure or brain is more over-flowing with wisdom as a result of recording what some green-jacketed self –righteous exclusive club member decided to call a ‘birdie’ or ‘eagle.’ “

He continued  “ even the most skilled tiger who burst from his cage earlier than most has demonstrated that there isn’t necessarily a relationship between moral character and collecting trophies and big checks.”

“But the gods must have blessed some of the players more than most” the second one stated.

The first one added “but then maybe some players may have sold their souls to the wrong god or fallen angel in order to rise to the mountain top of public adulation. Their abundant winnings don’t open heaven’s gates any faster or wider. Though a select few have used their rewards for a greater good. ”

“That all may be true “ paused the second one “ but it’s a game that is so difficult to master isn’t it?”

The first one added “but I have heard that it is a game…. ‘A game that can’t be won only played! God is happiest when his children are at play’ ”

“But you don’t even play by the rules” rebuked the now angry sailor.

“ I play by paradise rules …”

“What the heck does that supposed to mean?”

“ It’s about being authentic to yourself…. sometimes I get lost in the competition of life. I ought to win this. I ought to achieve that. I read that we lose our authenticity in all the ought to’s and should of’s .  I just desire any opportunity where I can be completely who I am …no more no less. Besides I can’t get bogged down beating myself up by playing by the rules made up for a game by somebody else.”

“So what’s the point in playing the game then?”

“Well, to be honest, it is a great excuse to get outside with nature and to be present to all the living grace that surrounds us.”

“Then go for a hike in the woods or on a beach.”

“ I could do that, there is a time for stroll in the forest and contemplative walks along the shoreline. …But I enjoy your company, the laughs and cigars and you like to play this game so that’s where I want to be. Yet, I must admit that every once in a while everything seems to click and falls into place, especially when I am completely relaxed and let go and my swing suddenly lifts the ball into the most beautiful arching flight out of nowhere and soars to precisely the point I had envisioned. I can just see God smiling too. “

“So you play golf to keep God smiling?”

“Well sometimes I get that same feeling when I try to write something original in a journal, play a song on my guitar or catch the wind with a sail on a boat. I just try to be present, get away from the distractions, feel the peace and let it take me to a place where I am my self and precisely who I am supposed to be.”

“That’s all nice but what did you get on the last hole? I need to write it down in the card you know.”

“It doesn’t really matter. Does it?”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“And so I play.

                I play on.

                I play for the moments yet to come...

                ... looking for my place in the field.”

                                    -  The Legend of Bagger Vance, ( Hardy Greaves),the Movie

                                                                     Feel the Flow

                                                                                               Enjoy Yourself

amdg

The Hungry Heart’s Game Changer

The prodigal pilgrim sailor packs away the scrolled maps he bought long ago that promised a course to a supposed hidden treasure somewhere on some uncharted island .He blows the dust from his passage trusted weathered weary compass securing her in a box for storage wondering if the stars lied. Forty-eight months have passed at sea since his vessel about to be lost unrecorded wreckage was graced with another chance by great-unseen hand.

What seems to be an obscure lost dream in the blink of an eye the cracking open of his chest as if he were some about to be consumed lobster was what a member of the band would label a “game changer.”  The light at the end of the tunnel continues to slowly increase in size as his vessel proceeds in becalmed and stormy seas alike. The passage continues as he grows in acceptance of the impermanence.

The priests say it is their prayers and his attempt at faith that healed and saved him. The sisters of the Holy Trinity believe it was their love that kept him on course. The member of the band protests the proposition of any role in feeding the pilgrim’s fire.

The pilgrim sailor’s journal scribblings attempt to articulate the confusion of new labyrinth meanderings and concern about the possible lack of progress. Recent readings provide some elucidation while meditating at dawn the comings and goings and songs of the birds of the first light and how the great mother sun gradually illuminates everything without judgment. He does not command - his heart to beat, his blood to flow, and his lungs to breathe. Somehow they know their purpose. 

“Something bigger than everything is at work here.”

It is the wonder-filling peace and mustard seed rooted gratitude that begin to flourish around, within and through him as he tries just to be. The fog that encompassed the affirmation that he was not here for himself was burning away.

[On July 31, 2008 the family enjoyed an evening of celebration of hope in the “land of giants” by the Boss. The program’s tee shirt with the three swords and a heart was an appropriate garb, as the father would have a CABG (coronary artery bypass surgery) at dawn on August 4, 2008. That celebration was part of what promoters called “Magic Tour”…. and he believed.]

         








                        Epitaph on the gravestone of St. Ignatius of Loyola


     “Non coerceri a maximo, contineri tamen a minimo, divinum est.”

(Loose translation…. Not to be daunted or held back by the greatest challenge and yet to      be concerned with the nitty-gritty, that is the path to holiness.)

********************************* 

Autumn Poem

In the last jovial, clear-sky days of autumn
the mockingbird
in his monk-gray coat
and his arrowy wings

flies
from the hedge to the top of the pine
and begins to sing — but it's neither loose, nor lilting, nor lovely —

it's more like whistles and truck brakes and dry hinges.
All birds are birds of heaven
but this one, especially, adores the earth so well
he would imitate, for half the day and on into the
evening,

its ticks and wheezings,
and so I have to wait a long time
for the soft, true voice
of his own glossy life

to come through,
and of course I do.
I don't know what it is that makes him, finally, look
inward

to the sweet spring of himself, that mirror of heaven,
but when it happens —
when he lifts his head
and the feathers of his throat tremble,

and he begins, like Saint Francis,
little flutterings and leapings from the pine's forelock,
resettling his strong feet each time among the branches,
I am recalled,

from so many wrong paths I can't count them,
simply to stand, and listen.
All my life I have lived in a kind of haste and darkness
of desire, ambition, accomplishment.

Now the bird is singing, but not anymore of this world.
And something inside myself is fluttering and leaping, is
trying

to type it down, in lumped-up language,
in outcry, in patience, in music, in a snow-white book.

                  -  Mary Oliver

*******************************************

Philip Henslowe: Mr. Fennyman, allow me to explain about the theatre business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster.

Hugh Fennyman: So what do we do?

Philip Henslowe: Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well.

Hugh Fennyman: How?

Philip Henslowe: I don't know. It's a mystery.

  - Shakespeare in Love

                                           http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCVJny3Va4I

                                         http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0W7_XgXfH38

amdg

Lost and Found: The Journey to the Authentic

“A tree gives Glory to God by being a tree. For being what God means it to be it is obeying Him .It consents, so to speak, to His creative love. It is expressing an idea, which is in God and is not distinct from the essence of God, and therefore a tree imitates God by being a tree.

The more a tree is like itself, the more it is like Him. If it tried to be something else which it was never intended to be, it would be less like God and therefore would give him less glory.”

-       Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

“As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and prosper in the thing for which I sent it. “

-       Isaiah 55: 10-11

 

So there they were, the three almost wise men, gathered for their ritual communion.

“Peace be with you.”

“Good to see you.”

“Good to be seen.”

The requisite reports on the status of offspring and the supersonic unbridled passage of the collective and idiosyncratic existences are swiftly shifted. Transitions and potential transformations, discerning the Odyssean passages of the pilgrimages of self identity and work evolved as the unspoken focal points for the theme of this concelebration.

What was that road not taken? Was it fear? 

“What would you be doing if you had the choice?

The new Irish writer of the purple sage questioned.

Passion, talent, and  desire are surfaced as overriding factors. Filling up the siloes meant nothing as the trio understood that gifts were given to be nurtured and used…life would take care of itself. It was an easy conclusion since a semblance of faith fueled their fire.

The survey said

-       Two for music

-       Two for writing, (the senior one stuck to his split decision and would acquiesce to the flip of a coin if necessary. However, if time permitted sailing and baseball would have made what his father called the proverbial  “jack of all trades” list. )

Regret  was not a condition explored. Their journeys, a series of accidental vocational circumstances, had brought them together on the way to their Emmaus. Each as a Sherpa, mentor and wizard –in-training behind the curtain, they had encouraged other pilgrims to discover the universe within and without. Yet, their own sanctified gifts that had been dormant in the recesses of their souls were insistent on making way to the surface and great light. Bliss does not sleep.

The older one shared

“The encouragement by a member of the band helped me become a channel for words from some unknown spiritual spring and placing them in some type of pre-ordained construct. This same companion immersed me in re-baptismal font of  the ineffable sacred joy of filling the silence by creating music. “

He continued with a secret smile

“ These transformational resuscitated creative experiences are blessings and when I am channeling them as all sense of time is lost. However, in this losing I have found my self again. “

He didn’t say, “ ’ where your heart is there is you treasure.’  That is the heart of the matter, isn’t it?” They all knew the truth.

As they all readied themselves to depart their temporary safe harbor to resume their own passages the wind whispered dialog of a pair of real wizard voices in the wilderness

BILL MOYERS:” Do you ever have the sense of... being helped by hidden hands? “

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: “All the time. It is miraculous. I even have a superstition that has grown on me as a result of invisible hands coming all the time - namely, that if you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be. “

It begins to rain again and the three hug….

“Peace be with you”

“Until next time”

“I pray there will be a next time”

and somehow they know whatever path they chose it will be the right road .Nothing had changed.

                                                                          When I write my book

                                                      EVERYDAY I WRITE THE BOOK

                                                                     Paperback writer

---------------------------

By learning you will teach;
by teaching you will understand.
 - Latin Proverb

“I write to discover what I know.”
- Flannery O’Connor

Music in the soul can be heard by the universe.
- Lao Tsu

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
- Aldous Huxley

“Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

 – (Ulysses, Alfred, Lord Tennyson)           

"If you write for God, you will reach many men and bring them joy.

If you write for men, you may make some money and you may give someone a little joy and you may make noise in the world, for a little while.

If you write only for yourself, you can read what you yourself have written and after ten minutes you will be so disgusted, you will wish that you were dead."

   - Thomas Merton

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

    - Robert Frost












amdg