photo: We attended the Sunday mass in the Trappist monastery in Lafayette, near Newberg,OR. I found
a weeping cherry tree and a smaller one next to it.
about books,poetry, and images
scutters like autumn leaves
looking for words
under the boulders
from dry twigs
misty trees from spider webs
lonely words inside a secluded soul
flowing voicelessly in the river
How can I spin
the words into silk?
How can my imagination
seed the clouds
rain spilling in torrents
washing over the obelisks and memorials
first try and second chances
and try all over again?
note: Mrs. Abstract and I are driving through the rain on the way to Oregon.
I’m currently reading Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles.
My mind listens
“whispering pillars of the rain”
a bird hides between the leaves
The garden blooms
the fish claims deeper waters
the mud removed and floor polished
In May, come with me
lets hike a mountain
we will talk of bewilderment,
the constant changes
of tidings and doubt
the bliss of simple life.
In her book of essays, Nine Gates, Entering the Mind of Poetry, Jane Hirsfield explains Neitzsche’s Three Metamorphoses.
“The philosopher describes 3 stages through which the spirit must pass before it can truly serve”: the camel, the lion, and the child.
“First it must become a camel… to bear the weight of the world… enter into tradition and culture… and hardships of common human life.”
“Then the spirit must lionlike to slay the dragon of external values…”
“The lion too must give way, and become a child: only in the child’s forgetting and innocence can a truly new spirit come into the world. This is the beginning of genuinely original creation, the moment in which the writer can turn at last toward the work without preconception, without any motive beyond knowing the taste of what is.”
note: spring colors
Yesterday Mrs. Abstract and I went wine tasting at J Winery in Healdsburg and Mayo Family Winery in Glenn Ellen.
On the way back home we had lobster dinner at Meritage Martini and Oyster Bar in Sonoma.
I was admiring the tagine on several shelves in bram, a store at the Sonoma Square, downtown Sonoma, with claypot cookwares imported from Morocco, Egypt, Italy,and other places around the world.
Today at our local there is an article about tagine and Moroccan wine pairings:
NEW WINES FROM THE OLD WORLD
Moroccan wines take the spotlight at Napa Valley events
I arrive at the liminal space
a place to pause
to unravel a whorl of thought
to open wide my hands
welcome the whole universe
Spring brings lent
a time to transform the heart
the inward turn
alone without angels
to pray with pain and joy
“Thy will be done”.
“Small kindnesses make a difference-they have echoes out of proportion to the effort they take.”
“ ‘We do not great things, we do only small things with great love,’ Mother Theresa said ”. -quoted by Sue Bender, Everyday Sacred, A Woman’s Journey Home
A mountain sleeps and rises
braces for storms, celebrates the forest
endures drought, suffers through fires.
Like the mountain
I learn to endure the thought
that life is transient.
I learn a little knowledge
in perception of beauty.
I learn to accept
life’s deep ambiguities.
Season of lent is here.
Time to turn the heart,
with humility, ascend the mountain
not to prove, but to receive
God’s teachings, poured abundantly.
The holy spirit dwells in our heart.