Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Rilke’ Category

As ever, I am astonished by autumn. This year, seemingly most beautiful. Leaves still lingering here and there. Colors becoming softer. The morning and late afternoon light luminous, golden. The air, sharp, pure, crystalline. The sky vibrant. These moments, this season, this life, so precious. Gratitude abounds. FROM RILKE’S BOOK OF HOURS, I, 17 She [...]

Read Full Post »

Only in our doing can we grasp you. Only with our hands can we illumine you. The mind is but a visitor; it thinks us out of our world. Each mind fabricates itself. We sense it limits, for we have made them. And just when we would flee them, you come and make of yourself [...]

Read Full Post »

Through the empty branches the sky remains. It is what you have. Be earth now, and evensong. Be the ground lying under that sky. Be modest now, like a thing ripened until it it is real, so that he who began it all can feel you when he reaches for you. II,I Rilke Rilke’s Book [...]

Read Full Post »

The hour is striking so close above me, so clear and sharp, that all my senses ring with it. I feel it now: there’s a power in me to grasp and give shape to my world. I know that nothing has ever been real without my beholding it. All becoming has needed me. My looking [...]

Read Full Post »

Early this morning…a walk with my dear friend Sunny and our canine companion Elvis. Black Rock Forest, our personal sanctuary, vibrant with autumn. Sharp air, tasting, smelling sweet, tangy, moist. We stood in silence and watched the trees breathing. Watched a single leaf clinging, spinning, not yet willing to acknowledge gravity’s law, aging or impermanence. [...]

Read Full Post »

THE BOOK OF PILGRIMAGE, II, 22 You are the future, the red sky before sunrise over the fields of time. You are the cock’s crow when night is done, You are the dew and the bells of matins, maiden, stranger, mother, death. You create yourself in ever-changing shapes that rise from the stuff of our [...]

Read Full Post »

THE SONNETS TO ORPHEUS, PART TWO, XII Want the change. Be inspired by the flame where everything shines as it disappears. The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much as the curve of the body as it turns away. What locks itself in sameness has congealed. Is it safer to be gray and numb? What [...]

Read Full Post »

For Kathleen… SONNETS TO ORPHEUS, PART ONE, IV You who let yourselves feel: enter the breathing that is more than your own. Let it brush your cheeks as it divides and rejoins behind you. Blessed ones, whole ones, you where the heart begins: You are the bow that shoots the arrows and you are the [...]

Read Full Post »

  FROM THE BOOK OF HOURS I believe in all that has never yet been spoken. I want to free what waits within me so that what no one has dared to wish for may for once spring clear without my contriving. If this is arrogant, God, forgive me, but this is what I need [...]

Read Full Post »

  Time in the car. Rolling hills. Lonely farms. Spectacular vistas. Pewter skies. Autumn colors. Beige stubble of harvested corn…silvery feed corn still standing. Blazing sumacs. Velvet sumac seed plumes. Bright velvet green fields. Shades of soft brown, tan and maroon. Hay rolls bailed, tractors, freshly plowed earth. AUTUMN The leaves are falling, falling as [...]

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.