Why am I still writing this travel blog? No travel. No meeting of strangers with interesting stories to share. Readership of one to none. Yes, the writing practice itself is incentive. The discipline of meeting a deadline is somewhat rewarding. Still, I feel a wee bit…uninspired. 

During the past few days, I’ve been reading philosophy — philo (love) sophos (wisdom). Perusing subjects on the seemingly lost Greek arts of dialogue and reason. I wrote about it here, but fortunately for you, I just deleted all four paragraphs, then got up to “go”.

I didn’t expect to find sweet inspiration in the bat-room.

Sometimes some thing lives on a shelf or in a space for so long that it blends into its surroundings and is ignored…missed. Today, I noticed. There on the counter, in its battered metal frame wrapped in thin foil, rests the yellow-faded poem my mom had for “umpteen” years positioned in various places but the last was on the counter of her guest bathroom — within reach to read whilst sitting.

Remember This by F. Collis Wildman, 1906

It’s not Socrates, but it’s just what I needed. Thanks mommy.

(If you can’t make out the poem here, look it up. You’ll smile.)

“Oh what a beautiful night
The stars are shining bright
I’ve not been feeling right
Not been feeling right
Soon it’s gonna change
Time to rearrange
Stop this acting strange…

All we have begun
New oblivion…
Please be good to me
Last chance to be free
This mountain majesty
This rediscovery”

— Chicago


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