Filled with poetry from the soles of my feet to the tips of my fingers.

Dying to spend some time absorbing every element of my immediate surrounding and then attempting to compare that with life, and with books and with, well, just everything! Isn't poetry lovely? However, I will spend the rest of the evening writing a philosophy paper and doing my math homework. Don't get me wrong, I love philosophy (the math not so much but that is a discussion for another day) but you simply cannot express philosophy as well in an organized essay with a clear thesis and five paragraphs as you can with a piece of paper in your hand waiting to display every feeling and thought and desire in a few lines of brilliance. Oh, and I forgot to mention the circumstances that led to such impassioned sentiments. I went to a poetry reading tonight with two poets named Dana Roeser and Donald Platt.

Thank you Lord for poetry. I mean that with all my soul.

Perhaps tonight before I go to sleep I will try to jot a few lines. Might even share them with you later. That is what is wonderful about having no readers. Freedom.