But I hold them close, dearly,
Silent, because I fear being misunderstood to mean something that I do.
To speak the truth, out of turn and time, I will not.
A far larger problem, occupying far less space
To keep mindful, and shake the dust and cobwebs
Seems such a bother, when things are holding together without.
Holding, but the seams strain and stress
And the weighty matters of daily nothing
So full of travel and details and immediacy
Do not forget them, but mind them not at all
And let not your need for sleep keep you from awakening
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