111 posts categorized "Poetry"

The poetry of hands holding out my thanks, 57

ImageOh, the beauty in those raised hands / detail from a Jan Luyken and Pieter Arentsz etching; circa 1687

In the morning as the storm begins to blow away
the clear sky appears for a moment and it seems to me
that there has been something simpler than I could ever believe
simpler than I could have begun to find words for
not patient not even waiting no more hidden
than the air itself that became part of me for a while
with every breath and remained with me unnoticed
something that was here unnamed unknown in the days
and the nights not separate from them
not separate from them as they came and were gone
it must have been here neither early nor late then
by what name can I address it now holding out my thanks

~ "Just Now" by W. S. Merwin

Visitation from the sun

Photo 3Mitza's tulips

... which seemed like a
visitation from the sun, urging me to tell you, in
case like me you had forgotten

     we are the universe's latest way of blooming.

~ an excerpt from Untitled ["This poem is not meant for you"] by Willow Harth

As a tree contains its rings

ImageDetail of Francesca's artwork

"We always feel younger than we are. I carry inside myself my earlier faces, as a tree contains its rings. The sum of them is me. The mirror sees only my latest face, while I know all my previous ones."

~ Tomas Tranströmer

Tapping a wall


To converse with the greats
by trying their blindfolds on;
to correspond with books
by rewriting them;
to edit holy edicts,
and at the midnight hour
to talk with the clock by tapping a wall
in the solitary confinement of the universe.

~ "To Converse with the Greats" by Vera Pavlova

Quietly shining

The-quiet-moonLate summer sky, 2014

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.

~ Samuel Coleridge, excerpt from Frost at Midnight

Each moment is a place

IfihadahammerIf I had a hammer, if I had a guitar, ... / Feb. 2014

Nothing will tell you
where you are.
Each moment is a place
you've never been.

~ an excerpt from "Black Maps" by Mark Strand

From meditation

MeditationWalking: meditation and meandering / Jan 2013

Buddha was asked, "What have you gained from meditation?" He replied, "Nothing! However, let me tell you what I have lost: anger, anxiety, depression, insecurity, fear of old age and death."