Poem: As somebody who I already linked to once today and who doesn't need any more links, thank you, pointed out, April is National Poetry Month. And since I already have the book in my hot little hands, I thought I'd post one of my favorite Bradbury poems, and encourage you to rush out and buy the book right now, right this minute, never mind that it's after two in the morning.

DOING IS BEING

by Ray Bradbury

Doing is being.
To have done's not enough;
To stuff yourself with doing--that's the game.
To name yourself each hour by what's done,
To tabulate your time at sunset's gun
And find yourself in acts
You could not know before the facts
You wooed from secret self, which much needs wooing,
So brings it out,
Kills doubt by simply jumping, rushing, running
Forth to be
The new-discovered me.
To not do is to die,
Or lie about and lie about the things
You just might do some day.
Away with that!
Tomorrow empty stays
If no man plays it into being
With his motioned way of seeing.
Let your body lead your mind--
Blood the guide dog to the blind;
So then practice and rehearse
To find heart-soul's universe,
Knowing that by moving/seeing
Proves for all time: Doing's being!