“It’s the hard things that break; soft things don’t break. It was an epiphany I had today and I just wonder why it took me so very, very long to see it! You can waste so many years of your life trying to become something hard in order not to break; but it’s the soft things that can’t break! The hard things are the ones that shatter into a million pieces!”
– C. Joybell C.
There Will Come Soft Rains
by Sara Teasdale (1920)
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild-plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
(Note: Sara Teasdale wrote this during a time of war and pandemic.)
Soft is the word that comes to mind for me at present when I think of balance. So much is happening, here at home, and in the world that I am weary of being hard. Soft is the quality I seek this week. Won’t you join me? Drop a link to your post in the comments, or pingback.