how to receive

1-Pics for Blog Edits472

Two nouns, two sounds, with a long silence between. A long time of silence which is, on the page, a long space of emptiness. Hands is an image. Birds is an image. Between them, a long wordless flight. Each reverberates in the stillness. The reverberations intermingle. In the center one begins to pick up the interacting waves of sound and picture. The winged limb at rest and at full stretch. Agility, grace, efficiency, versatility, the power of the small: man’s hand; birds. How one may hold another hand in one’s own, like a bird, warm soft and perishable, it is held in trust. How one may hold a bird in one’s hand, and feel the tender beating savage presence; through all the tenderness one feels as well the predatory claw, the blast-off flight, the endurance, the skill. One could muse forever on hand and bird, how they are similar and different. How they participate in the being of earth, both creatures of a feathered god with a thousand arms. How hard it is to say anything about he poem without as it were putting handcuffs on the hands and tethers on the birds. If however one utters the word “hands” and then moves in its wake through the stirring stillness to “birds,” and the two notes then work their magic simultaneously, the poem begins to live, and to do its work in the listening ear. There is really nothing to say, there is a mood in which quiet meditation seems most full of meaning.

hands                                                                                  birds.

~M.C. Richards

poetics of your world. poetry for a moment. when there are no words for the felt senses.

inquiry for today~  don’t try too hard today to understand or question. just feel…

finding home

one day you realized

So that one day
you realized
that what you wanted
had already happened,
and long ago,
and in the dwelling place
in which you lived
before you began,
and that every step
along the way,
you had carried
the heart and the mind
and the promise,
that first set you off
and then drew you on,
and that
you were
more marvelous
in your simple wish
to find a way
than the gilded roofs
of any destination
you could reach-

~David Whyte

 

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