This is not a disaster.

I know I said I will accept things as there are, but I still can’t help but feel a little bit disappointed.

After all there is only so much a small heart can take, I think if someone took my heart out of my chest and examined it it would probably be the most battle worn heart ever.

Yes I’m being melodramatic. Its my blog after all.

But everytime I feel a deeper shade of azure, Elizabeth Bishop always puts things into perspective.

This poem is like a hug put into words. It is my all time fav. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.


One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day.
Accept the fluster of lost door keys,
the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel.
None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch.
And look! my last, or next-to-last,
of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones.
And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster

* Elizabeth Bishop *