There is a kind of fear, approaching a panic, thats spreading through the Baby Boom Generation, which has suddenly discovered that it will have to provide for its own retirement. – Ron Chernow
Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge of driftwood along the beach, wanting! They derive from a slow and powerful root that we can’t see. Stop the words now. Open the window in the center of your chest, and let the spirits fly in and out. – Rumi, as interpreted by Coleman Barks
