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What have I done, dear God, to deserve this perpetual feeling that I'm almost ready to begin something really new?

Theodore Roethke

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Theodore Roethke
Age: 55 †
Born: 1908
Born: May 25
Died: 1963
Died: August 1
Poet
Teacher
Writer
Saginaw
Michigan
Really
Deserve
Begin
Ready
Almost
Feeling
Feelings
Done
Perpetual
Something
Dear

More quotes by Theodore Roethke

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I lose and find myself in the long water. I am gathered together once more.
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But when I breath with the birds, The spirit of wrath becomes the spirit of blessings, And the dead begin from their dark to sing in my sleep.
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The poet: would rather eat a heart than a hambone.
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I came where the river Ran over stones My ears knew An early joy. And all the waters Of all the streams Sang in my veins That summer day.
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The fields stretch out in long unbroken rows. We walk aware of what is far and close. Here distance is familiar as a friend. The feud we kept with space comes to an end.
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I came to love, I came into my own.
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Let others probe the mystery if they can.Time-harried prisoners of Shall and Will -The right thing happens to the happy man.
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How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.
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I have gone into the waste lonely places
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I wish I could find an event that meant as much as simple seeing.
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The living all assemble! What's the cue?-- Do what the clumsy partner wants to do!
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I learn by going where I have to go.
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Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.
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Who rise from flesh to spirit know the fall: The word outleaps the world, and light is all.
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What falls away is always. And is near.
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The indignity of it!- With everything blooming above me, Lilies, pale-pink cyclamen, roses, Whole fields lovely and inviolate,- Me down in the fetor of weeds, Crawling on all fours, Alive, in a slippery grave.
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When I go mad, I call my friends by phone: I am afraid they might think they're alone.
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Long live the weeds that overwhelm My narrow vegetable realm! The bitter rock, the barren soil That force the son of man to toil All things unholy, marred by curse, The ugly of the universe.
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So much of adolescence is an ill-defined dying, An intolerable waiting, A longing for another place and time, Another condition.
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By daily dying, I have come to be.
Theodore Roethke