To find you are wrong is the best thing;
wrong instills wonder and change;
wrong gives that surge to love when everything is strange,
and sails in to forgive
and writes the bright song.
Triumph to wake up and cry in the night, “I was wrong.”
At last, by the past, to live.
Scrooge laughing, coat open, in the cold.
God no longer old!
Shakespeare said, “Change your thought
that I might change my mind.”
Change whatever it is that you want from the lake—
and it will be a different lake.
Do not be afraid to want.
But know what you want.
Write the harsh song.
Make it lovely.
You did not know you were wrong.