The Waste Land By T. S. Eliot V. What The Thunder Said Then spoke the thunderD A 400Datta: what have we given?My friend, blood shaking my heartThe awful daring of a moment’s surrenderWhich an age of prudence can never retractBy this, and this only, we have existed 405Which is not to be found in…
Midweek and I am unsure what to write. Uncertainty is the rule, the rule that overrides all else most of the time. Read a passage translated from Aristotle’s Ethics I 1094b which is famously and often quoted. The philosopher writes that we should measure our judgment to the particular topic at hand. Our expectations…
Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the horizon? –The Gay Science by Friedrich Nietzsche To The Unknown God Once more, before I move on I am directing my gaze forward In loneliness, I am lifting my hands Up to Thee, to whom I flee, To whom I, from the deepest bottom of…
On occasion words come to “set my hair on fire.” It is one of my favorite metaphors to describe a life-changing experience. Poetry is a matter of words used to proper effect, to orient us as a compass needle to our position within the larger scheme of space and time. This poem by Cal…
I accompanied my granddaughter to a story telling event at the public library. The topic was the screech owl and raptors in general. The three story tellers were enthusiastic about their work rehabilitating injured raptors, returning the birds to the wild. I felt humbled in the presence of the birds which were gently removed…
[Sun-messenger] Lynn Xu Sun-messenger call Life to me slowly and all at once criss- crossing in that golden light Snail with your moving shroud Silver tree with your thousand roadways O dream hurry go past me This poem speaks to me and I cannot describe why. These are the shortest days, less…
Journey of the Magi T. S. Eliot ‘A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a long journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.’ And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory, Lying down in the melting snow. There…
Midweek. A few days remain until Christmas. The to-do list is short. To live is to act, to do. It is good to have a list, the illusion of control. I believe there is no control, that all is at “the mercy” of the state of things that immediately preceded this moment. Still there…
Solstice in Truro Joshua Weiner Teaching term done, I keep my laptop shut A chill in the air runs under weak June sun Chickadee warbler catbird waxwing— Morning migrant songs drowned by bulldozer next door The backing up beeping a constant one note feed From far off, boundless tides crest onto restless sand How…
Musing about possible topics for this post. When I read this poem by Lori Levy, it seemed this was more than enough to pass on. The lines are a reminder that ordinary life is a smorgasbord of delightful details. Often what I lack, is sufficient inner calm to notice the play of everything going…
