darkness

TheSunEarlyMornSethSnap

Now A Darkness is Coming
by Jane Hirshfield

I hold my life with two hands.
I walk with two legs.
Two ears are enough to hear Bach with.
Blinded in one eye, a person sees with the other.
Now a great darkness is coming.
A both-eyes darkness.
I have one mouth.
It holds two words.
Yes, No,
inside all others.
Yes. No. No. Yes.
I say yes to these words, as I must,
and I also refuse them.
My two legs,
shaped to go forward,
obedient to can’t-know and must-be,
walk into the time that is coming.

“Now A Darkness is Coming” from LEDGER: Poems by Jane Hirshfield. Published 2020 by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of The Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.

 

on DH Lawrence:
Lawrence’s books include The Rainbow (1915), Women in Love, and Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which was his last novel. The story of an aristocratic lady and her working-class lover, the book contained a multitude of sex scenes and unprintable four-letter words. The first edition was published privately in Italy (1928) and an edited version appeared in Britain in 1932. The unexpurgated version wasn’t published in the United Kingdom until 1960 and promptly came under attack. At the obscenity trial, the attorney for the prosecution famously asked the jury, “Is it a book you would have lying around? Is it a book you would wish your wife or servants to read?”
Novelist E.M. Forster was called as a witness for the defense in the British trial. His good friend Lawrence had died a long time before, in 1930, of tuberculosis in Vence, France. Forster called Lawrence “the greatest imaginative novelist of his generation.”
Lawrence’s ashes are interred in a small chapel in what is now the D.H. Lawrence Ranch in New Mexico. He said, “If there weren’t so many lies in the world, I wouldn’t write at all.”
And, “The human soul needs actual beauty more than bread.”

 

dandelion

dandelion

fresh salad

liver cleanse

burst of spring

flying seeds

blowball

lion’s tooth

taraxacum

Irish daisy

priest’s crown

bitterwort

bird of paradise

champagne

When I am not at peace with me, I do not like you either…

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you choose

and

the outcome is yours

I

cannot take care of you to dispel it

That responsibility is yours.

I need to move on finding someone

who makes me laugh

not get conflicted.

Then we will grow together,

not feeding off each other.

size doesn’t matter

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When it comes to intimacy

size doesn’t matter.

But baby elephants

are easier to trust.

They’re born with

incredible memories

of every detail

you have revealed to them.

They hold you in their trunk

And sometimes let you

grab their tails!

Enter into the coupling

without fear!

breath

CalligPrahna.GoKo

breathe with the Spirit of Holiness

Inhale grace

Exhale unlimited love

P R A H N A

Art and words by Jeanne

Mask Intimacy

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They Accuse Me of Not Talking
by Hayden Carruth

North people known for silence. Long
dark of winter. Norrland families go
months without talking, Eskimos also,
except bursts of sporadic eerie song.
South people different. Right and wrong
all crystal there and they squabble, no
fears, though they praise north silence. “Ho,”
they say, “look at them deep thinkers, them strong
philosophical types, men of peace.”  But take
notice please of what happens. Winter on the brain.
You’re literate, so words are what you feel.
Then you’re struck dumb. To which love can you speak
the words that mean dying and going insane
and the relentless futility of the real?

Hayden Carruth, “They Accuse Me of Not Talking” from Collected Shorter Poems 1946-1991. Copyright © 1983, 1992 by Hayden Carruth.

shadows

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shadows flow with currents

rising falling depths

haiku silhouettes

re-member

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re – mind me

re- member me in OA

re-member me in AA

re- member me in Christ Church

re-member me in my HOA

re-member me at my grocer

re- member me at the Senior Center

re-member me in the Poland Family

over and over, I belong.

Nana reigns!

Owl

creepedOut2

creeped out

 

A Sighting
by Connie Wanek
The gray owl had seen us and had fled
but not far. We followed noiselessly,
driving him from pine to pine:
I will not let thee go except thou bless me.
He flew as though it gave him no pleasure,
forcing himself from the bough,
falling until his wings caught him:
they had to stroke hard, like heavy oars.
He must have just eaten
something that had, itself, just eaten.
Finally he crossed the swamp and vanished
as into a new day, hours before us,
and we stood near the chest-high reeds,
our feet sinking, and felt
we’d been dropped suddenly from midair
back into our lives.
 
“A Sighting” by Connie Wanek, from On Speaking Terms. Copyright © 2010 by Connie Wanek. Used by permission of The Permissions Company, Inc. on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

intimacy with the mystics

6humanslinked

mystics face the light

hold fast

support each other

honor each other,

maintain humility,

open their hearts

channel grace

endure with patience

persevere

accept pain

evolve at the master’s hand

Lord of all power and might

graft in our hearts, the love of your Name

I AM WHO I SAY I AM

Let love be genuine

Outdo one another in showing honor

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