where loons call in the distant dawn


There is nothing beautiful or sweet or great in life that is not mysterious……Francis Rene de Chauterbriand

tapping into a reverie, a daydream of immense movement and respect for the passing sun…..no need to know why, no need to know how……definitely need to know how to create space for the experience…..

The swallows, the rooster, the workmen repairing my house, my stomach, all with their elusive rhythms, their harmonies and disharmonies and conterpoint, became as I listened, the sound of my own life speaking to me. Never had I heard just such a coming together of sounds before, and it is unlikely that I will ever hear them in just the same combination again. Their music was unique and unrepeatable and beyond describing in its freshness. I have no clear idea what the sounds meant or what my life was telling me. What does the song of a swallow mean? And yet as I listened to those sounds, and listened with something more than just my hearing, I was moved by their inexpressible eloquence and suggestiveness, by the sense I had that they were a music rising up out of the mystery of not just my life, but of life itself. In much the same way, that is what I mean by saying that God speaks into or out of the thick of our days…..Frederick Buechner

like a day at the circus

At the back of our brains, there is a forgotten blaze or burst of astonishment at our own existence. The object of the artistic or spiritual life is to dig for this submerged sunrise of wonder……G.K. Chesterton

6 thoughts on “where loons call in the distant dawn

  1. Sound has an effect on our entire being that goes nearly unrecognized, even by the finest musicians. It is a sacred art, that in our ‘modern’ world has been relegated to entertainment status, where the Ancients knew sound as the formative basis of creation. We often speak of a piece of music having soul – in that regard there is a recognition of the place where it touches the very foundation of our consciousness …Sorry I have been away for so long, I have missed your constancy and connection to truth … May you find magic at the waters edge today …

    • poetry has its own sound rhythms…..as do all the sounds of nature….they weave a dream that is life…..reconnecting and knowing that each is there…..a wondrous gratitude to you g.f.s……

  2. It has taken me a lifetime to learn – how to sit silently and watch the world becoming. It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence – fill up the space with noise. They’ve yet to understand the purity of silence, the holiness of quiet. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox. Only then do we hear the words that need not voice to be. ❤

    • in teaching yoga yesterday, I focused on inner listening….waiting to hear our own special internal rhythm….a mystery to never be revealed if we are too brash to pause…..as breath to breath is to each line of poetry Bobbie….

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