Stringing and Unstringing

As a follow up to my last post, I add these wonderful (sad) lines:

     The song I have come to sing

     remains unsung to this day.

     I have spent my life

     stringing and unstringing

     my instrument.

     —Rabindranath Tagore

And the photo is appropriate, since it is of kilims I didn't buy in Santa Fe—beautiful, old, beyond my price range.  But I can love them from afar, love them this way, in memory, and not feel too regretful.

As with the song I came to sing, since I think I've just hummed along with several others.  I've had no shortage of music, my heart is glad to say.

image:  Christie B. Cochrell, Kilims