Letters from a Living Dead Man
LETTER XLVII. ONLY A SONG

Elsa Barke

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WILL you listen to another song, or chant, or whatever you choose to call it, of that amazing angel whom we know as the Beautiful Being?

Why do you fear to question me? I am the great answerer

of questions;

Though my answers are often symbols, yet words themselves

are only symbols.

I have not visited you for a season, for when I am

around, you can think of nothing else, and it is well

that you should think of those who have trodden

the path you are treading.

You can pattern your ways on those of others, you can

hardly pattern your ways on mine.

I am a light in the darkness—my name you do not need

to know;

A name is a limitation, and I refuse to be limited.

In the ancient days of the angels, I refused to enter the

forms of my own creation, except to play with

them.

There is a hint for you, if you like hints.

He who is held by his own creations becomes a slave.

That is one of the differences between me and men.

What earthly father can escape his children? What

earthly mother wishes to?

But I! I can make a rose to bloom—then leave it for

another to enjoy.

My joy was in the making. It would be dull for me to

stay with a rose until its petals fell.

The artist who can forget his past creations may create

greater and greater things.

The joy is in the doing, not in the holding fast to that

which is done.

Oh, the magic of letting go! It is the magic of the gods.

There are races of men to whom I have revealed myself.

They worship me.

You need not worship me, for I do not require worship.

That would be to limit myself to my own creations, if I

needed anything from the souls I have touched with

my beauty.

Oh, the magic of letting go!

The magic of holding on?

Yes, there is a magic in holding on to a thing until it

is finished and perfect;

But when a thing is finished, whether it be a poem, a

love, or a child, let it go.

In that way you are free again and may begin another.

It is the secret of eternal youth.

Never look back with regret; look back only to learn

what is behind you.

Look forward always; it is only when a man ceases to

look forward to things that he begins to grow old.

He settles down.

I have said to live in the moment; that is the same thing

seen from another side.

The present and the future are playfellows; we do not

play when we study the past.

I am the great playfellow of men.

This book is provided by FunNovel Novel Book | Fan Fiction Novel [Beautiful Free Novel Book]

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