to see through the fog you must first recognize that the fog is just fog
we make a statement when we decorate; our taste is to be admired
a small reminder can force us to think, even if we don’t know it
to find the meaning we must have understanding or it’s just a guess
nothing has value when we are taught that all things are disposable
looking back fondly should never be confused with wishing to return
when we find something that brings us peace, its value cannot be measured
there’s no way to know and even less right to judge other people’s dreams
the sun doesn’t care which one of the seasons it’s shining its light on
once we claim something we forget how we got it and refuse to share
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