In Beauty…

Eagle Poem

by Joy Harjo

To pray you open your whole self

To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon

To one whole voice that is you.

And know there is more

That you can’t see, can’t hear;

Can’t know except in moments

Steadly growing, and in languages

That aren’t always sound but other

Circles of motion.

Like eagle that Sunday morning

Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky

In wind, swept our hearts clean

With sacred wings.

We see you, see ourselves and know

That we must take the utmost care

And kindness in all things.

Breathe in, knowing we are made of

All this, and breathe, knowing

We are truly blessed because we

Were born, and die soon within a

True circle of motion,

Like eagle rounding out the morning

Inside us.

We pray that it will be done

In beauty.

In beauty.

“…Breathe in, knowing we are made of

All this”

How amazing is it to think that we are indeed a part of this big, amazing, beautiful world?

Hope reading this poem helps to round out your Thursday…in beauty! Enjoy the day!

{Image via here}

…At Night Alone

When you look up at the sky on a clear night does the vastness of our universe make you feel more connected or more alone?  I must admit ambivalence as I oftentimes feel both…

On the Beach at Night Alone

by Walt Whitman

On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef
of the universes and of the future.

A vast similitude interlocks all,
All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets,
All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time, all inanimate forms,
All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in
different worlds,
All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes,
All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,
All identities that have existed or may exist on this globe, or any globe,
All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann’d,
And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.

{Image via here}

Spring Quiet…

Sorry for the lack of posts this week…but I’ve been relishing in the beautiful Spring weather! 

I’ll leave you with this poem as we head into the weekend:

Spring Quiet

By Christina Rossetti

Gone were but the Winter,
      Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
      Where the birds sing;

Where in the whitethorn
      Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
      In the holly-bush.

Full of fresh scents
      Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
      A cool green house;

Full of sweet scents,
      And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
      ‘‘We spread no snare;

‘‘Here dwell in safety,
      Here dwell alone,
With a clear stream
      And a mossy stone.

‘‘Here the sun shineth
      Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
      Of the far sea,
      Though far off it be.’’

…Have a lovely weekend!

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Words of Love…

If you are in need of some poetry to quote for your loved one this Valentine’s Day…may I suggest you look no further than Pablo Neruda. 

His words are dripping with longing and affection…

…phew, I swoon every time I read his poetry!

Hope you have someone special to whisper a few lines to…otherwise you can read it & daydream (like me)!

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Those Winter Sundays…

On this cold morning my mind wanders to this lovely poem which is sure to make you think of your father…

Those Winter Sundays
By Robert Hayde

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. 

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house, 

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

I find this poem a nice reflection on the unconditional love of a parent, and a reminder to be sure to tell those who love and care for you “thanks” for all that they do…Have a lovely Monday!

{Image via Here}

Poetry Snippet…

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

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Poetry Snippet…

Sometimes, I Am Startled Out of Myself, by Barbara Crooker

like this morning, when the wild geese came squawking,
flapping their rusty hinges, and something about their trek
across the sky made me think about my life, the places
of brokenness, the places of sorrow, the places where grief
has strung me out to dry. And then the geese come calling,
the leader falling back when tired, another taking her place.
Hope is borne on wings. Look at the trees. They turn to gold
for a brief while, then lose it all each November.
Through the cold months, they stand, take the worst
weather has to offer. And still, they put out shy green leaves
come April, come May. The geese glide over the cornfields,
land on the pond with its sedges and reeds.
You do not have to be wise. Even a goose knows how to find
shelter, where the corn still lies in the stubble and dried stalks.
All we do is pass through here, the best way we can.
They stitch up the sky, and it is whole again.

{Image via here}

Poetry Snippet…

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.

~Emily Dickinson, Autumn

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e.e.’s Day…

e.e. cummings was born on this day in 1894…

here are some of his words (that I have come to love)  in honor of his birthday:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

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Poetry Snippet…

{Image via flickr}

The Chestnuts came in yellow,
The Oaks in crimson dressed;
The lovely Misses Maple
In scarlet looked their best;
All balanced to their partners,
And gaily fluttered by;
The sight was like a rainbow
New fallen from the sky.

~Part of October’s Party, By George Cooper

{Image via Pinterest}

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