A power of poetry is its words that make thoughts that create action, thoughts move elements together with purpose and direction.

As my eyes skimmed through the Adagia a couple of lines captured my thoughts.  My eyes became more focused as I returned to the Adagia and searched one by one for further light and knowledge that seemed to resonate with my mind:

Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts it becomes and epidemic.

The earth is not a building but a body.
That part of the truth of the world that has its origin in the feelings.
As the reason destroys, the poet must create.
We live in the mind
Everything tends to become real; or everything moves in the direction of reality.
The word must be the thing it represents otherwise it is a symbol. It is a question of identity.

 I had to stop because at this point my mind is ringing and hardly managing the thoughts swimming around in my head.  I had to start writing notes in my book for fear of loss, loss of those ideas, which would surely make me sad.  My mind then returned to Ashley’s blog. How is it that loss seems to trump both past and present? Having lost an adopted brother, I never forget his dorky ways or his annoyingly great stealing of my cheese. Although it has been 15 years my thoughts of him are always a mix of tears and smiles.  Sometimes I wonder what his life would have been like and in the same thought how that would have changed me. 

But he has changed me and I am happy for his time with me and in his absence am happy that I know him; because as words are thoughts and thoughts create feelings, we live in the mind, where reason cannot destroy what our poet creates, and this infection moves us to our epidemic of happiness. “The word must be the thing it represents otherwise it is a symbol.” and so are we, “It is a question of identity.” Who do we want to be?