Why do we fear the beautiful things that we love? THE OFT-REPEATED DREAM by: Robert Frost (1874-1963) HE had no saying dark enough For the dark pine that kept Forever trying the window latch Of the room where they slept. The tireless but ineffectual hands That with every futile pass Made the great tree seem as a little bird Before the mystery of glass! It never had been inside the room, And only one of the two Was afraid in an oft-repeated dream Of what the tree might do. "The Oft-Repeated Dream" is reprinted from Mountain Interval. Robert Frost. New York: Henry Holt, 1921. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:9-10