Sonnet 3

Look in your mirror and tell the face you see that it’s time should create another If you do not renew yourself you will be depriving the world, and stop some women from becoming a mother. For where is the lovely woman whose unploughed womb would not appreciate the way you plow your field? Or who is he foolish enough to love himself so much as to neglect reproducing? You are the mirror of your mother, and she is the mirror of you, and in you, she recalls the lovely April of her youth. In the same way, you will see your youth in your own children, in spite of the wrinkles caused by age. But if you live your life avoiding being remembered you will die single and your image will die with you. #Psychic #Healing #Cancer

Look in your mirror and tell the face you see that it’s time should create another If you do not renew yourself you will be depriving the world, and stop some women from becoming a mother. For where is the lovely woman whose unploughed womb would not appreciate the way you plow your field? Or who is he foolish enough to love himself so much as to neglect reproducing? You are the mirror of your mother, and she is the mirror of you, and in you, she recalls the lovely April of her youth. In the same way, you will see your youth in your own children, in spite of the wrinkles caused by age. But if you live your life avoiding being remembered you will die single and your image will die with you.
#Psychic #Healing

Sonnet 2

When forty winters have attacked your brow and wrinkled your beautiful skin, the pride and impressiveness of your youth, so much admired by everyone now, will have become a worthless, tattered weed. Then, when you are asked where your beauty’s gone and what’s happened to all the treasures you had during your youth, you will have to say only within your own eyes, now sunk deep in their sockets, where there is only a shameful confession of greed and self-obsession. How much more praise you would have deserved if you could have answered, ‘This beautiful child of mine shall give an account of my life and show that I made no misuse of my time on earth,’ proving that his beauty, because he is your son, was once yours! This child would be new-made when you are old and you would see your own blood warm when you are cold.

When forty winters have attacked your brow and wrinkled your beautiful skin, the pride and impressiveness of your youth, so much admired by everyone now, will have become a worthless, tattered weed. Then, when you are asked where your beauty’s gone and what’s happened to all the treasures you had during your youth, you will have to say only within your own eyes, now sunk deep in their sockets, where there is only a shameful confession of greed and self-obsession. How much more praise you would have deserved if you could have answered, ‘This beautiful child of mine shall give an account of my life and show that I made no misuse of my time on earth,’ proving that his beauty because he is your son, was once yours! This child would be new-made when you are old and you would see your own blood warm when you are cold.

 

Sonnet 1

We want all beautiful creatures to reproduce themselves so that beauty’s flower will not die out; but as an old man dies in time, he leaves a young heir to carry on his memory. But you, concerned only with your own beautiful eyes, feed the bright light of life with self-regarding fuel, making beauty shallow by your preoccupation with your looks. In this you are your own enemy, being cruel to yourself. You who are the world’s most beautiful ornament and the chief messenger of spring, are burying your gifts within yourself And, dear selfish one, because you decline to reproduce, you are actually wasting that beauty. Take pity on the world or else be the glutton who devours, with the grave, what belongs to the world. #Psychic #Healing #Cancer

We want all beautiful creatures to reproduce themselves so that beauty’s flower will not die out; but as an old man dies in time, he leaves a young heir to carry on his memory. But you, concerned only with your own beautiful eyes, feed the bright light of life with self-regarding fuel, making beauty shallow by your preoccupation with your looks. In this you are your own enemy, being cruel to yourself. You who are the world’s most beautiful ornament and the chief messenger of spring, are burying your gifts within yourself And, dear selfish one, because you decline to reproduce, you are actually wasting that beauty. Take pity on the world or else be the glutton who devours, with the grave, what belongs to the world.