Nana Owl

Nana Owl

Nana Owl illustrated by Annika

Nowl and Don by Owen

red haired nana owl

flying full for grand kids’ joy

squirrel man nearby

Definition #295 Joy

axis of joy

axis of joy

handlebars: axis

of earth, pedals, spokes, and seat,

cradling toned athlete!

It’s the birthday of poet Louise Bogan,

born in Livermore Falls, Maine (1897).

She said,

“I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering;

surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest

on pure joy!”

I can comfort the broken hearted…

I will not bruise the tender reed...

I will not bruise the tender reed…

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me
I am anointed
to bring good news to the suffering and afflicted
comfort the broken hearted,
announce liberty to captives
open the eyes of the blind…
tell the mourning that God’s favor has come
bringing beauty, joy and praise!”
Isaiah 61:1-3

Why We Need To Sleep

This morning I listened to Garrison Keiler on the Poetry Almanac Podcast, and was moved by this poem by William Blake.
Then I read Heidi Mordhorst’s blog and was reminded of our need to detoxify each night.
http://myjuicylittleuniverse.blogspot.com/
Emily-OliverFall
On Another’s Sorrow

Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear —

And not sit beside the next,
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear?

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
Oh no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

He doth give his joy to all:
He becomes an infant small,
He becomes a man of woe,
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not year.

Oh He gives to us his joy,
That our grief He may destroy:
Till our grief is fled an gone
He doth sit by us and moan.

William Blake

Want to Harmonize

Wanting to Harmonize

Want to harmonize
with Jan
who knows and gives
bows and nods
like I would do.

Want to harmonize
with Don
who sees and hears
my silent inquiries
and gets me there.

Want to harmonize
with family
who jostle and diminish
me: daily dancing
to humility and joy.

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