A day of many weighty endings
Dropping off the end of each hour
as the clock moves along
to the next thing
flipflopping
from winding down
to growing anticipation
to counting down
to checking Sarah’s arrival time
to tossing the last papers in the big blue bin
by the photocopier
to stealing a glance at Lake Constance online
holding promise of beauty and thrill
to bidding adieu to my neighbour-colleague-friend whose steps are
braver than mine
to the end of the last workday
for seven and a half months of
freedom…
poetrywalking 
You’ll enjoy Lake Constance the scenery there is beautiful I’m going to enjoy the adventures of the intrepid 3
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LOST
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
-David Wagoner
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Beautiful, one of my favourite poems… Thank you very much for posting this here, Radhika. I will try to remember this if it feels like we are lost at any time!
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