58 posts categorized "The Poetry of Hands"

The poetry of sisterly hands, 58

IMG_4360A celebration with sisters / Oct 2016

We are a River (Lao Tzu)

Don't accept the modern myths of aging.
You are not declining.
You are not fading away into uselessness.
You are a sage,
a river at its deepest
and most nourishing.
Sit by a river bank some time
and watch attentively as the river
tells you of your life.

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


The poetry of hands and walking feet, 56

Poetry-of-hands-feetClay "feet" walking up a mosaic wall / Philadelphia

Solvitur Ambulando: it is solved by walking

"It is the best of humanity, I think, that goes out to walk. In happy hours all affairs may be wisely postponed for this."  ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson, Country Life, 1857

“Your true kingdom is just around you, and your leg is your scepter. A muscular, manly leg, one untarnished by sloth or sensuality, is a wonderful thing.”  ~ Alfred Barron, Foot Notes, Or, Walking as a Fine Art, 1875


The poetry of hands, 55

SolsticeNJ Solstice Sunset picture-in-a-picture / June 2014

“She is our moon. Our tidal pull. She is the rich deep beneath the sea, the buried treasure, the expression in the owl's eye, the perfume in the wild rose. She is what the water says when it moves.”

~ Patricia A. McKillip, Solstice Wood


The poetry of hands, 54

photo.JPG

Mountain house glow

"But how are you to see into a virtuous Soul & know its loveliness? Withdraw into yourself & look. And if you do not find yourself beautiful yet, act as does the creator of a statue that is to be made beautiful: he cuts away here, he smooths there, he makes this line lighter, this other purer, until a lovely face has grown upon his work.

So do you also: cut away all that is excessive, straighten all that is crooked, bring light to all that is overcast, labour to make all one glow of beauty & never cease chiseling your statue..."
 
~ an excerpt from Beauty by John O'Donohue (via Mitza)


The poetry of hands, 53

Poetry-of-hands_breadThink about the work of your hands / April 2014

"It is the first day because it has never been before and the last day because it will never be again. Be alive if you can all through this day today of your life. What's to be done? What's to be done?
Follow your feet. Put on the coffee. Start the orange juice, the bacon, the toast. Then go wake up your children and your wife. Think about the work of your hands, the book that of all conceivable things you have chosen to add to the world's pain. Live in the needs of the day."

~ Frederick Buechner


The poetry of hands, 52

Snow-came-last-nightOver there / Feb 2014

It's been a wild winter in Jersey. Intense fog this morning. Then thunder. Lightning. Today walking it was over 50 degrees. There are still huge piles of snow and most lawns are snow-covered. A gentle wind that turned alternately warm and cold blew by me. Like swimming in the lake in the summer when you hit warm and cold patches...

"Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will" ~ Karim Seddiki


The Poetry of Hands, 50

Mitza_violetsMitza's Blue Violet Moon bouquet like Eddie used to pick for Edna / April 2013 / thanks for picture J

“She was like the moon—part of her was always hidden away.”
~ Dia Reeves, Bleeding Violet

“He thought how sad it was to be an Animal who had never had a bunch of violets picked for him.”
~ A.A. Milne

“Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets, and to drag in the idea of a point is to ruin everything. Live and let live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve, which flows on, pointless.”
~ D.H. Lawrence

“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.”
~ Tennessee Williams, Camino Real