I Decided On The Spot

THIS IS WHERE WE LIVE

I am one of those that live 

in the middle of the sea and close to the twilight 

a little beyond those stones. 

When I came 

and saw what was happening 

I decided on the spot. 

The day had spread itself 

and everything was light 

and the sea was beating 

like a salty lion, 

many-handed. 

All that deserted space was singing 

and I, lost and awed, 

looking toward the silence, 

opened my mouth and said: 

"Mother of the foam, 

expansive solitude, 

here I will begin my own rejoicing, 

my particular poetry." 

From then on I was never 

let down by a single wave. 

I always found the flavour of the sky 

in the water, in the earth, 

and the wood and the sea burned together 

through the lonely winters. 

I am grateful to the earth 

for having waited 

for me 

when sky and sea came together 

like two lips touching; 

for that's no small thing, no? - 

to have lived 

through one solitude to arrive at another, 

to feel oneself many things and recover wholeness. 

I love all the things there are, 

and of all fires 

love is the only inexhaustible one; 

and that's why I go from life to life, 

from guitar to guitar, 

and I have no fear 

of light or of shade 

and almost being earth myself, 

I spoon away at infinity. 

So no one can ever fail 

to find my doorless numberless house - 

there between dark stones, 

facing the flash 

of the violent salt, 

there we live, my woman and I, 

there we take root, 

Grant us help then. 

Help us to be more of the earth each day! 

Help us to be 

more the sacred foam, 

more the swish of the wave!

~ Pablo Neruda 

Gift

To Be Alone And Connect

To The Traveller

A Morning Offering

I bless the night that nourished my heart

To set the ghosts of longing free

Into the flow and figure of dream

That went to harvest from the dark

Bread for the hunger no one sees.

All that is eternal in me

Welcome the wonder of this day,

The field of brightness it creates

Offering time for each thing

To arise and illuminate.

I place on the altar of dawn:

The quiet loyalty of breath,

The tent of thought where I shelter,

Wave of desire I am shore to

And all beauty drawn to the eye.

May my mind come alive today

To the invisible geography

That invites me to new frontiers,

To break the dead shell of yesterdays,

To risk being disturbed and changed.

May I have the courage today

To live the life that I would love,

To postpone my dream no longer

But do at last what I came here for

And waste my heart on fear no more.

~ John O'Donahue

Even Under The Most Extraordinary Circumstances

Borne Up By The Sun

A Beginning Point

No One Knows, It Seems

I felt it here,

in this particular
part of the woods,

where I stand now.


. . . . .


Fall communicated

its whereabouts

in the slip of a leaf – 

going down

d o w n,

d

o

w

 n.

Nonchalantly

it sort of swooped,

crisscrossing

 others mid-flight.


It took its final rest

midst the flood

of September light, 

close to where I stood

at a curious distance,

in that particular
part of the woods.


I felt it.
Fall was definitely
there, in the air.


Every one knows, 
it seems.

Staring At It

Even Then ~

It's Enough To Imagine

Something's Lost But Something's Gained

and you will know, too, 

when you lift yourself high 

enough to see beyond horizons.  

~ Richard Bach

Breadth, And Depth, And Distance

Autumn is the
eternal corrective.


It is ripeness and color
and a time of maturity; 
but it is also breadth, 
and depth, and distance.  
What man can stand
with autumn on a hilltop 
and fail to see
the span of his world 
and the meaning
of the rolling hills 
that reach to
the far horizon?

~ Hal Borland

The Art Of Conversation

A panicky sort of wind
 swept quickly across this page,

resulting in a different conclusion
to the tilt and slant of this poem.

In This Briefness

Almost Obedient-Like

A Tiny Shadow

An Interesting Tension

Every So Often

As if by law of nature

time's pulse never rests.

To some it is a cradle of hope,

a stream where hours flee,

a present point just passed –

healing what reason cannot.

To understand its worth

we must employ it well, 

as its burning impatience

tick-tocks, jolting the heart ajar.

. . . . .

Every so often

when time permits,

we step outside

into nature's 

balanced stillness.

As if by law of nature

the sacred melody of life

is awakened within.

Almost immediately

dislodged thoughts

enthusiastically turn

as time's brevity circles.

P a u s e

In All Its Guises

The Gift Is Simple

Will You Come With Me

"Lights and darks. 

And suddenly i was here, 

where everything seems strange. 

And I don't know why. 

Like the Fox and the Crow, 

I don't know the whole story yet. 

But that's a good reason to go on, 

don't you think?"

"Go where?" said the Scarecrow.

"Go forward," said the girl. 

"See something. 

Learn something. 

Figure it out. 

We won't ever get the whole thing, 

I bet, but we'll get something. 

And then we'll have something 

to tell when we're old 

about what happened to us 

when we were young."

"Now?" said the Scarecrow. 

"Can you tell it now?"

"After," said the girl. 

"We have to have 

the BEFORE first, 

and that's life"

"And what's life?" 

said the scarecrow.

"Moving," said the girl. 

"Moving on. 

Shall we move on? 

Will you come with me?"

~ Bruce Coville

Momentarily

Looking In

Glancing back

beyond the edges

of this quiet place,

linked to earth and sky,

a seabed of green

sways to the faint
whispers of a breeze.

My eyes sway too,

glimpsing the red, the blue,
the overall antiqueness

of this peaceful
country scene.

Peering in, 

I cannot absorb

the window's dark, 

yet I try hard to
fasten my thoughts

around its emptiness

so as to understand

its reserved silence –

to feel the sensation

of its duration 
in between the dark
and the light.

For now nothing moves
toward the outer limits
of this framed-in space.


Only a deep stillness lingers…

The Flow And Play Of Consciousness

Under This Sky

I started running 

again this morning.

The adventure of it, 

surging through me.

Embracing it, 

my heart raced within.

How privileged

we are underfoot, 

amid such spaciousness.

Within This Continuity

Put It All Down As Beautifully As You Can

“I should advise you to put it all down as beautifully as you can – in some beautifully bound book. It will seem as if you were making the visions banal – but then you need to do that – then you are freed from the power of them… .Then when these things are in some precious book you can go to the book & turn over the pages & for you it will be your church – your cathedral – the silent places of your spirit where you will find renewal. If anyone tells you that it is morbid or neurotic and you listen to them – then you will lose your soul – for in that book is your soul.”

~ Carl G. Jung

Near Each Other