mystic waters [longing]

(Greece, 10-08-09)

These quiet Autumn days,
My soul, like Noah's dove, on airy wings
Goes out and searches for the hidden things
Beyond the hills of haze.

With mournful, pleading cries,
Above the waters of the voiceless sea
That laps the shore of broad Eternity,
Day after day, it flies,

Searching, but all in vain,
For some stray leaf that it may light upon,
And read the future, as the days agone -
Its pleasures, and its pain.

Listening patiently
For some voice speaking from the mighty deep,
Revealing all the things that it doth keep
In secret there for me.

Come back and wait, my soul!
Day after day thy search has been in vain.
Voiceles and silent o'er the future's plain
Its mystic waters roll.

God, seeing, knoweth best,
And in His time the waters shall subside,
And thou shalt know what lies beneath the tide,
Then wait, my soul, and rest.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~

Idler's Song [breathing space]

(Greece, 10-08-09)

I sit in the twilight dim
At the close of an idle day,
And I list to the soft sweet hymn,
That rises far away,
And dies on the evening air.
Oh, all day long,
They sing their song,
Who toil in the valley there.

But never a song sing I,
Sitting with folded hands,
The hours pass me by –
Dropping their golden sands –
And I list, from day to day,
To the 'tick, tick, tock'
Of the old brown clock,
Ticking my life away.

And I see the twilight fade,
And I see the night come on,
And then, in the gloom and shade,
I weep for the day that's gone –
Weep and wail in pain,
For the misspent day
That has flown away,
And will not come again.

Another morning beams,
And I forget the last,
And I sit in idle dreams
Till the day over – past.
Oh, the toiler's heart is glad!
When the day is gone
And the night comes on,
But mine is sore and sad.

For I dare not look behind!
No shining, golden sheaves
Can I ever hope to find:
Nothing but withered leaves.
Ah! dreams are very sweet!
But will not please
If only these
I lay at the Master's feet.

And what will the Master say
To dreams and nothing more?
Oh, idler, all the day!
Think, ere thy life is o'er!
And when the day grows late,
Oh, soul of sin!
Will He let you in,
There at the pearly gate?

Oh, idle heart, beware!
On, to the field of strife!
On, to the valley there!
And live a useful life!
Up, do not wait a day!
For the old brown clock,
With its 'tick, tick, tock, '
Is ticking your life away.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~

Passing Time [self-reflexion]

(in-between, 09-09-09)

Your skin like dawn
Mine like musk

One paints the beginning
of a certain end.

The other, the end of a
sure beginning.

~ Maya Angelou ~

The Civil War

(in-between, 06-09-09)

I am torn in two
but I will conquer myself.
I will dig up the pride.
I will take scissors
and cut out the beggar.
I will take a crowbar
and pry out the broken
pieces of God in me.
Just like a jigsaw puzzle,
I will put Him together again
with the patience of a chess player.

How many pieces?

It feels like thousands,
God dressed up like a whore
in a slime of green algae.
God dressed up like an old man
staggering out of His shoes.
God dressed up like a child,
all naked,
even without skin,
soft as an avocado when you peel it.
And others, others, others.

But I will conquer them all
and build a whole nation of God
in me – but united,
build a new soul,
dress it with skin
and then put on my shirt
and sing an anthem,
a song of myself.

~ Anne Sexton ~

exit [sequel]

(Greece, 10-08-09)

I examine
my skin

searching for
the pore

with EXIT
over it

~ Bill Knott ~

skyful [intermezzo]

(Switzerland, 04-09-09)

[...]

I though that Storm -- was brief --
The Maddest -- quickest by --
But Nature lost the Date of This --
And left it in the Sky --

~ Emily Dickinson ~

The Windows of my Tower

(Greece, 07-08-09)

Turn from that road's beguiling ease; return
to your hunger's turret. Enter, climb the stair
chill with disuse, where the croaking toad of time
regards from shimmering eyes your slow ascent
and the drip, drip, of darkness glimmers on the stone
to show you how your longing waits alone.
What alchemy shines from under that shut door,
spinning out gold from the hollow of the heart?

Enter the turret of your love, and lie
close in the arms of the sea; let in new suns
that beat and echo in the mind like sounds
risen from sunken cities lost to fear;
let in the light that answers your desire
awakening at midnight with the fire,
until its magic burns the wavering sea
and flames carress the windows of your tower.

~ Denise Levertov ~

sea-wash

(Greece, 07-08-09)

The sea-wash never ends.
The sea-wash repeats, repeats.
Only old songs? Is that all the sea knows?
Only the old strong songs?
Is that all?
The sea-wash repeats, repeats.

~ Carl Sandburg ~

reaching out

(Greece, 07-08-09)

How long ago the day is
when at last I look at it
with the time it has taken
to be there still in it
now in the transparent light
with the flight in the voices
the beginning in the leaves
everything I remember
and before it before me
present at the speed of light
in the distance that I am
who keep reaching out to it
seeing all the time faster
where it has never stirred from
before there is anything
the darkness thinking the light

~ W.S. Merwin ~

~ balance ~

(Greece, 06-08-09)

I prayed, at first, a little Girl,
Because they told me to --
But stopped, when qualified to guess
How prayer would feel -- to me --

If I believed God looked around,
Each time my Childish eye
Fixed full, and steady, on his own
In Childish honesty --

And told him what I'd like, today,
And parts of his far plan
That baffled me --
The mingled side
Of his Divinity --

And often since, in Danger,
I count the force 'twould be
To have a God so strong as that
To hold my life for me

Till I could take the Balance
That tips so frequent, now,
It takes me all the while to poise --
And then -- it doesn't stay --

~ Emily Dickinson ~

I have tried to write Paradise #1

(Greece, 05-08-09)

Do not move
Let the wind speak
that is paradise.

[...]

~ Ezra Pound ~

faith

(Greece, 05-08-09)

The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply that they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.

~ James Matthew Barrie ~

nichts mehr wollen wollen

(Greece, 05-08-2009)

Wenn man ans Meer kommt
soll man zu schweigen beginnen
bei den letzten Grashalmen
soll man den Faden verlieren

und den Salzschaum
und das scharfe Zischen des Windes einatmen
und ausatmen
und wieder einatmen

Wenn man den Sand sägen hört
und das Schlurfen der kleinen Steine
in langen Wellen
soll man aufhören zu sollen
und nichts mehr wollen wollen
nur Meer

Nur Meer

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If one comes to the sea
one shall start to be silent
at the last blades of grass
one shall lose the thread

and breathe in
the salt foam
and the sharply hissing wind
and breathe out
and breathe in again

If one hears the sand sawing
and the shuffling of the little stones
in long waves
one shall stop shalling
and wanting to want nothing more
only sea

Only sea

~ Erich Fried ~