Excerpts from "The Fringed Gentian"

Who dreams of wider spheres revealed
Up higher near the sky
Within the valley's narrow field
Cannot contented lie.
Who longs for mountain breezes rare
Is restless down below
Like me for stronger purer air
Thou pinest, too, I know.

Where aspirations, hopes, desires
Combining foundly dwell,
Where burn the never-dying flowers
Of Genius' wondrous spell.
Such towering summits would I reach
Who climb and grope in vain,
Oh, little flower, the secret teach
The weary way make plain.

Read "A Summer to Die" by Lois Lowry. I'm on a children's books reading spurge. Her book, "The Giver" still remains strongly with me and taking this children's lit class is getting better and better. At first it was a little of a drag, me not wanting to put in the effort to perform well in any academic classes. But I think I'm finally getting into the serious mode, and getting excited about studying, learning. But anyhow, this second book that I've read by Lowry reminded me of this piece of poetry I first came to know through L.M.M.'s Emily trilogy.

It's funny, how, with all my four years at Calvin, and all that I've come to know, I still have my deepest dreams and motivations from things I found in the past, in secondary school. Sure, I gain the tools and means to know how to practically achieve those dreams and explored more deeply the subject matters, but I suppose, the first dabble is always the best--when I was a desperately dramatic young nutto.