423b2e
423b2e

1.29.2014

anne sexton and anais nin: random thoughts of january


Meanwhile in my head, I'm undergoing open-heart surgery.
~ Anne Sexton
"Who am I to believe in dreams?
There is an animal inside of me,
clutching fast to my heart;
Perhaps the earth is floating,
I do not know.
Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups
made by some giant scissors,
I do not know.
Perhaps the moon is a frozen tear,
I do not know.
Perhaps God is only a deep voice
heard by the dear,
I do not know."

~ Anne Sexton, The Poet of Ignorance

"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically.  We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly.  We grow partially.  We are relative.  We are mature in one realm, childish in another.  The past, present and future mingle and pull us backward, forward or fix us in the present.  We are made up of layers, cells, constellations."

~ Anais Nin

xxx

1.13.2014

emily dickinson



114

I SING to use the waiting,
My bonnet but to tie,
And shut the door unto my house;
No more to do have I,

Till, his best step approaching,
We journey to the day,
And tell each other how we sang
To keep the dark away.


Emily Dickinson
xxx

1.08.2014

the lessons of water


david moses
from The Paris Review:

The Lessons of Water
The best way to conduct oneself may be observed in the behavior of water. - Tao te ching

When given a place to wait, it fills that place
By taking the shape of what contains it,
Its upper surface poised and level,
Absorbing, accepting what it can as lightly
Or heavily as it does itself.  If pressed
Down, it will offer back in all directions
Everything it was given.  If chilled, it will shatter
Daylight and whiten to stars, will harden and sharpen
And turn unforseeably dazzling.  Neglected,
It will disappear, being transformed and lifted
Into thin air.  Or thrown away, it will gather
With other water, which is all one water,
And rise and fall, regather and go on rising
And falling the more quickly its path descends
And the more slowly as it wears that path away,
To be left awhile, to stir for the moon, to wait
For the wind to begin again.

by David Wagoner

xxx