Today I read this poem.

Today was like sweet vacation nectar and, oh, every drop was savored. Cass and I rolled out of bed and went to the beach with her lovely mother. We ran a bit but mostly enjoyed the time before making a quick stop at the weight room and proceeding to the pool. I learned to do laps and sat in the jacuzzi and laid carelessly in the sun. I burned. I love it. We bought burritos and watched two and half episodes of Law and Order. We bought coffee and ate spaghetti and almost did Yoga. God has blessed me with a day of rest and I am working to remain fully in that rest. Rest in who He is and in who He created me to be.

And today I read this poem:

You Are Tired (I Think) by e.e. cummings

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

- e.e. cummings