....On a cot by an open window, I lie and remember
While the birds in the trees sing, of the circle of time.
Let the dying go on, and let me, if I can,
Inherit from disaster before I move.
O, I go to see the great ships ride from harbor,
And my wounds leap with impatience, yet I turn back
To sort the weeping ruins of my house:
Here or nowhere I will make peace with the fact.
To be a citizen of this lovely earth, to set up a household where all beings are welcome to dine according to their evolved tastes, Mary is asking me hold the grief and struggle to make peace that in this life there is suffering.