So much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I consume too much and contribute too little. Angel wings flit at the corners of my senses.
I have no art or poetry but if I ever made it big I would establish a sanctuary, a conservatory of all arts, a Rivendell for the human treasures in this world, where poets and artists and holy women would wander the exquisitely tended gardens. Men-at-arms would guard the gates and never let blade nor barrel nor lawyer nor mud-brained beaurocrat onto the grounds.
There is a walled garden in your soul. Don’t ever let it be trampled, mown or paved.