For the Bird Singing before Dawn Poem by Kim Stafford Some people presume to be hopeful when there is no evidence for hope, to be happy when there is no cause. Let me say now, I’m with them. In deep darkness on a cold twig in a dangerous world, one first little fluff lets out a peep, a warble, a song—and in a little while, behold: the first glimmer comes, then a glow filters through the misty trees, then the bold sun rises, then everyone starts bustling about. And that first crazy optimist, can we forgive her for thinking, dawn by dawn, “Hey, I made that happen! And oh, life is so fine.”
It Was a Dream It was a dream We all carry with us this dream: that something wonderful will happen, that it must happen - that time will open, that the heart will open, that doors will open, that cliffs will be opened, that springs will well forth, that the dream will be opened, - that we one peaceful morning will glide in - onto a bay we had not been aware of. ~ by Olav H.Hauge ~Translated from the original Norwegian by Rolleiv Solholm
Separation Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color. ~ W. S. Merwin
Our Real Work by Wendell Berry It may be that when we no longer know what to do we have come to our real work, and that when we no longer know which way to go we have come to our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.
How Near to Fairyland By Yone Noguchi The spring warmth steals into me, drying up all the tears of my soul, And gives me a flight into the vastness,—into a floorless, unroofed reverie-hall. Lo, such greenness, such velvety greenness, such a heaven without heaven above! Lo, again, such grayness, such velvety grayness, such an earth without earth below! My soul sails through the waveless mirror-seas. Oh, how near to Fairyland! Blow, blow, gust of wind! Sweep away my soul-boat against that very shore!
Avoid Adapting Other People's Negative Views By Sharon Dolin ~ after Epictetus To gaze upon the fatal without commiserating gloom: what every friend should be— not one who rends her coat of doom nor one who lets her ankle rankle nor her dogged love to the hounds. Be the cat in catastrophe who survives eight more dives. Though in the clutch of damage a dame must age, in the crazy-quilt of guilt it was never your fault. In the company of morose always pull out the rose.
Marrying the Wind
I proposed to the wind and the wind said yes but now we are encountering extreme difficulties putting together our wedding registry. The wind wants feathers, dust bunnies, confetti. It has no interest in candelabras. The wind wants only things that can be carried on its soft voice. I want all the seasons of Breaking Bad. The wind cannot appreciate Walter White, but it may like to carry away a cloud of smoke. I am unsure if my love can be held in the wind’s arms. Nothing is softer than the wind’s arms it loves to hold hands with my hair. But I want to fight about this espresso machine the wind doesn’t want. The wind cannot pick up the registry scanner so I am forced to do all the booping. Cornmeal boop. Flour boop. Wood shavings boop. I buy a Diet Coke and the wind takes the receipt. I scream into the wind and the wind screams back.
~ by Brett Elizabeth Jenkins
Bait shop with an eye for the artistic.
A mermaid named Amy Montgomery.
Seen just off the main drag in Rockport, Texas.
Abby and I spent a few days in DC at the start of the Cherry Blossom Festival. The trees were just starting to flower so we didn’t get the full effect. Apparently the blossoms start out white, eventually turn pink and then will be truly breathtaking.
The city takes the cherry blossoms very seriously. It was fun to see everything decked out for the celebration.