User login

Syndicate

XML feed

Who's online

There are currently 0 users and 45 guests online.

Poll

What Is Your Trump Card World View?
Secular Humanist
0%
Cosmic Humanist
0%
Biblical Christian
0%
Hedonist
0%
Aristotelian
100%
Total votes: 2

The Wayward Cow

Submitted by Ben on January 25, 2006 - 12:17am.

There are multiple ways in which we can build up our minds to be more creative. One way NOT to become more creative is to do everything the same old way. Working or studying all day everyday can get boring. We may get into a 'rut' and become work/school/family zombies. Looking at our jobs, our studies, or even our lives in more creative ways helps us do all these things better.
Sam Walter Foss wrote a poem in 1895 that we should take into heart.

One day through the primeval wood
A calf walked home as good calves should;
But made a trail all bent askew,
A crooked trail as all calves do.

Since then three hundred years have fled,
And I infer the calf is dead.
But still he left behind his trail,
And thereby hangs my moral tale.
The trail was taken up next day
By a lone dog that passed that way;
And then a wise bellwether sheep
Pursued the trail o'er hill and glade
Through those old woods a path was made.

And many men wound in and out
And dodged and turned and bent about
And uttered words of righteous wrath
Because 'twas such a crooked path;
But still they followed -- do not laugh --
The first migration of that calf,
And through this winding woody-way stalked
Because he wobbled when he walked.

This forest path became a lane
That bent and turned and turned again;
This crooked lane became a road,
Where many a poor horse with his load
toiled on beneath the burning sun,
And traveled some three miles in one.
And thus a century and a half
They trod the footsteps of that calf.

The years passed on in swiftness fleet,
The road became a village street;
And thus, before we were aware,
A city's crowded thoroughfare.
And soon the central street was this
Of a renowned metropolis;
And men two centuries and a half
Trod in the footsteps of that calf.

Each day a hundred thousand rout
Followed this zigzag calf about
And o'er his crooked journey went
The traffic of a continent.

A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead.
They followed still his crooked way,
And lost one hundred years a day;
For thus such reverence is lent
To well-established precedent.



Submitted by Roy Ashbrook (not verified) on February 2, 2006 - 8:42am.

That's awesome. Very Ironic.

Post new comment

*
*
The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.


*

  • Allowed HTML tags: <a> <em> <strong> <cite> <code> <ul> <ol> <li> <dl> <dt> <dd>
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
  • Glossary terms will be automatically marked with links to their descriptions