Friday, April 22, 2011
My computer woes continue: I can't believe I accomplished this wish to share Easter greetings with you...ON DIAL-UP!!!
I love Jesus, who said to us:
heaven and earth will pass away.
When heaven and earth have passed away,
my word will still remain.
What was your word, Jesus?
Love? Forgiveness? Affection?
All your words were
one word: Wakeup.
~ Antonio Machado ~
(Translated by Robert Bly, in
The Soul Is Here For Its Own Joy)
Antonio Machado, born July 26, 1875 in Sevilla, Spain, died February 22, 1939 in Collioure, France. An outstanding Spanish poet and playwright of Spain's "Generation of '98," Machado received a doctoral degree in literature in Madrid, and attended the Sorbonne. He rejected the modernism of his contemporaries and adopted what he called "eternal poetry," which was informed more by intuition than by intellect.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
This says so much of what I feel so much better than I would articulate it:
tinyurl.com/3dyxff3 and www.birdjam.com/birdsong.php?id=32
ANYONE CAN SING
Anyone can sing. You just open your mouth,
and give shape to a sound. Anyone can sing.
What is harder, is to proclaim the soul,
to initiate a wild and necessary deepening:
to give the voice broad, sonorous wings
of solitude, grief, and celebration,
to fill the body with the echoes of voices
lost long ago to bravery, and silence,
to prise the reluctant heart wide open,
to witness defeat, to suffer contempt,
to shrink, lose face, go down in ignominy,
to retreat to the last dark hiding-place
where the tattered remnants of your pride
still gather themselves around your nakedness,
to know these rags as your only protection
and yet still open - to face the possibility
that your innermost core may hold nothing at all,
and to sing from that - to fill the void
with every hurt, every harm, every hard-won joy
that staves off death yet honours its coming,
to sing both full and utterly empty,
alone and conjoined, exiled and at home,
to sing what people feel most keenly
yet never acknowledge until you sing it.
Anyone can sing. Yes. Anyone can sing.
~ William Ayot
(Small Things that Matter)
Friday, April 15, 2011
We would do well to emulate their behavior. Don't you agree?
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
As Carol Maureen (CMRAND54) knows, there are times that words are superfluous, redundant. That seems to be the case for me with William Stafford's poetry.
I will just say that all of my encounters with great blue herons have taken me to the place he so exquisitely describes. Look what I mean:
Spirit of Place: Great Blue Heron
Out of their loneliness for each other
two reeds, or maybe two shadows, lurch
forward and become suddenly a life
lifted from dawn or the rain. It is
the wilderness come back again, a lagoon
with our city reflected in its eye.
We live by faith in such presences.
It is a test for us, that thin
but real, undulating figure that promises,
"If you keep faith I will exist
at the edge, where your vision joins
the sunlight and the rain: heads in the light,
feet that go down in the mud where the truth is."
~ William Stafford ~
(The Way It Is)
(On a plaque in Portland, Oregon's City Hall, its city's bird)
And as far as how this contributes to our SparkGoals, I know Ellen (WATERMELLEN) would concur that this is part of the whole world's conspiracy to shower us with blessings (Rob Brezsny writes about this in PRONOIA IS THE ANTIDOTE FOR PARANOIA), which will give us the *joie de vivre* and inspiration to live life to the fullest in optimal health!!!
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Tenerife, Easter Islands
A SUSPENDED BLUE OCEAN
Is a suspended blue ocean.
The stars are the fish
The planets are the white whales
I sometimes hitch a ride on,
And the sun and all light
Have forever fused themselves
Into my heart and upon
There is only one rule
On this Wild Playground,
For every sign Hafiz has ever seen
Reads the same.
They all say,
"Have fun, my dear; my dear, have fun,
In the Beloved's Divine
O, in the Beloved's
~ Hafiz ~
(The Subject Tonight Is Love -- versions of Hafiz by Daniel Ladinsky) www.panhala.net/Archive/Index.html
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