I have started more fires than I can count, and I still burn my fingers every time. I love to put my hands in, and sometimes I rush things... I stand behind this poem entirely, we must learn things first hand.
This was written on a train while watching a young boy, probably 8 or 9 years old, stick his tongue out at his parents & guardians. My heart went out to all of them.
Leisure is absolutely essential to creativity, culture and community. At all costs, we must have leisure. How's that for a paradox?