To the Unseeable Animal Being, whose flesh dissolves at our glance, knower of the secret sums and measures, you are always here, dwelling in the oldest sycamores, visiting the faithful springs when they are dark and the foxes have crept to their edges. I have come upon pools in streams, places overgrown with the woods' shadow, where I knew you had rested, watching the little …
Poetry
Effortlessly …
Effortlessly, Love flows from God into man, Like a bird Who rivers the air Without moving her wings. Thus we move in His world One in body and soul, Though outwardly separate in form. As the Source strikes the note, Humanity sings— The Holy Spirit is our harpist, And all strings Which are touched in Love Must sound. ~ Mechthild of Magdeburg (trans. Jane Hirshfield) * …
Spanish Dancer
Spanish Dancer As on all its sides a kitchen-match darts white flickering tongues before it bursts into flame: with the audience around her, quickened, hot, her dance begins to flicker in the dark room. And all at once it is completely fire. One upward glance and she ignites her hair and, whirling faster and faster, fans her dress into passionate flames, till it becomes a …
All This Affluence … Inexhaustible!
The Taste Of Truth When a young child—still mostly unfamiliar with spoken language—tastes something sweetly delicious—say a piece of candy or a perfectly ripe peach—their delight may be expressed spontaneously by a giddy smile and/or eyes wide with astonishment. This is how we—while observing the child—might infer his or her pleasure, satisfaction, unspoken contentment. But mostly the taste of …
Carrying The World’s Beauty
Bright City I follow the morning light down the canal path, across the road and on to the Claddagh. In light which has turned canal, river and estuary to mercury, even the cars on the Long Walk are transfigured. Five swans beat their way in past the mud dock, heavy, sounding their own clarion, carrying the world's beauty in on their strong white backs this Saturday morning. ~ Moya …
Precision: Mathematical & Poetic
Spring Song This time of year/place—springtime in the northern hemisphere—easily brings to mind the theme of resurrection. But first it comes to the senses: the warming temperatures and steadily lengthening days; the sight and scent of fragrant blossoms; the lime-green newness squeezing out from seemingly dead branches. It’s glorious! Here’s a poem by Lucille Clifton that—to my …