Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Monday, October 26, 2015
You are neck-deep in water and yet cry for water.
It is as good as saying that one neck-deep in water feels thirsty, or that a fish in water feels thirsty, or that water feels thirsty.
Grace is always there.
Monday, September 14, 2015
There should be a word for the waythey look with just one eye, neck bent,for beetle or worm or strewn grain.“Gleaning,” maybe, between “gizzard”and “grit.”And for the way they run toward
someone they trust, their skirtshiked, their plump bodies wobbling:“bobbling,” let’s call it, insertedafter “blowout” and before “bloom.”There should be terms, too, for thingsthey do not do—like urinate or chew—but perhaps there already are.I’d want a word for the way they drink,head thrown back, throat wriggling,like an old woman swallowinga pill; a word beginning with “S,”coming after “sex feather” and before “shank.”And one for the sweetness of hensbut not roosters.We think that by naming we can understand,as if the tongue were more than muscle.
Friday, September 4, 2015
love is more thicker than forgetmore thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fall
it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea
love is less always than to win
less never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive
it is most sane and sunly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky
–E. E. Cummings
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Why should you bear your load on your head when you are traveling on a train?
It carries you and your load whether the load is on your head or on the floor of the train. You are not lessening the burden of the train by keeping it on your head but only straining yourself unnecessarily.
Similar is the sense of doership in the world by individuals.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
You have not danced so badly, my dear,
Trying to hold hands with the Beautiful One.
You have waltzed with great style,My sweet, crushed angel,
To have ever neared God's heart at all.Our Partner is notoriously difficult to follow,
And even His best musicians are not always easy To hear.
So what if the music has stopped for a while.
If the price of admission to the Divine
Is out of reach tonight.
So what, my dear,
If you do not have the ante to gamble for
The mind and the body are famous
For holding the heart ransom,
But Hafiz knows the Beloved's eternal habits.
For He will not be able to resist your longing For Long.
You have not danced so badly, my dear,
Trying to kiss the Beautiful One.
You have actually waltzed with tremendous style,
O my sweet, O my sweet crushed angel.
Friday, August 14, 2015
The mythologist Joseph Campbell was asked by an interviewer how a regular person could preserve his sense of the mythic when so many feel too besieged by the claims of every day living.
He said, "You must have a place to which you can go, in your heart, in your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not know what you owe anyone or what anyone owes you.
You must have a place you can go to where you do not know what your work is or who you work for, where you do not know who you are married to or who your children are."
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
You voluble, Velvety Vehement fellows
That play on your Flying and Musical cellos,
All goldenly Girdled you Serenade clover,
Each artist in Bass but a Bibulous rover!You passionate, Powdery Pastoral bandits,Who gave you your Roaming and Rollicking mandates?Come out of my Foxglove; come Out of my rosesYou bees with the Plushy and Plausible noses!
–Norman Rowland Gale
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Yearn for more.
By God, don't linger
in any spiritual benefit you have gained,
but yearn for more, like one suffering from illness
whose thirst for water is never quenched.
This Divine Court is the Plane of the Infinite.
Leave the seat of honor behind;
let the Way be your seat of honor.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
emptiness is not
void. It has
flavor, it has
Its colors are dusk,
You are the tender
spread of dawn
when it first appears
and the last lingering
long after sunset.
You are the
emerald sheen of
sun in water
and the light that fails
to find its reflection
on a day of drizzle.
You take my
emptiness and spin it
into a blanket so light
it sits like stardust
on your shoulders,
my emptiness offering shade
to your dazzling Fullness.
–Antoinette Voûte Roeder
Color Me Empty
a love song
thank you Antoinette!