Acceptance

When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know
It is the change to darkness in the sky.
Murmuring something quiet in her breast,
One bird begins to close a faded eye;
Or overtaken too far from his nest,
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.
At most he thinks or twiters softly, 'Safe!
Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night be too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'

Robert Frost

[So I close my eyes, even in the darkness. I need no eyes to see, I need to arms to feel, I need no feet to walk. I will walk following my heart own ticking. No signs of Thought. Presence of Feeling. It's dark. I see no tomorrow, and for that, I smile. Tomorrow? There is none. "Let what will be, be"]