Consolation

Didn’t you say before:

That even were there just only one who really likes your posts, even were it only one post, even were he/she would keep silent, not reveal their identity you would be grateful, happy?

That you didn’t care to win the Grand Prize for Literature as long as you can win a Prize in a reader’s heart?

That were your writing praised or blamed, it would not become the greater, nor the lesser?

That you are just a happy little cricket, though unable to sing a nightingale’s song to delight the world?

That you are great as there’s not a man, a woman, a creature that is not great?

And now am I content, happy again, though were my writings just as a cricket’s song. So I comfort myself.

I can only write, sing of you, dear angels and especially you, dear MM*. Should I rather hide my thoughts and feelings to appear likable and decent? I never  could write to a world of males, I must confess.

* Maria Magdalene

October 2014

This is my book. You can read it.

http://blookup.com/en/blookshop/blook/leisurely-reading-14566/