Friday, July 5, 2013

the heart, unscrolled

"Once in a while it vanishes - in the sense that I become deaf to beauty for a week or two or three. This coming and going of the inner life - because this is what it is - is a curse and a blessing. I don't need to explain why it's a curse. A blessing because it brings about a movement, an energy which, when it peaks, creates a poem. Or a moment of happiness."

- Adam Zagajewski

Recalling A Sung Dynasty Landscape
by Jane Hirshfield

Palest wash of stone-rubbed ink
leaves open the moon: unpainted circle,
how does it raise so much light?
Below, the mountains
lose themselves in dreaming
a single, thatch-roofed hut.
Not that the hut lends meaning
to the mountains or the moon–
it is a place to rest the eye after much traveling, is all.
And the heart, unscrolled,
is comforted by such small things:
a cup of green tea rescues us, grows deep and large, a lake.

Though I've felt unwell, and go on feeling unwell, I'm grateful for my small garden. For the beauty I am able to see, collect, experience. Everything is muted now. 

There is the comfort of green tea, yes, small things.

I've been reading a particular book of poetry in the backyard for a couple of days. Poetry is the perfect thing right now. My attention span is the length of one page. I can read a line, then close my eyes, absorb the words, drink them in. 

Also, this morning: Mozart. Something of a cure-all, Mozart. 

1 comment:

  1. I hope you're feeling well soon. I love this delightful teacup with that darling image of an Alberta rose.
    my musical cure-all is Chopin. Love Chopin. Wishing you well Shawna


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