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Thursday, November 6, 2014

there is no leaf


"There is no leaf that is not in Your care. There is no cry that was not heard by You before it was uttered. There is no water in the shales that was not hidden there by Your wisdom."

"But there is a greater comfort in the substance of silence than in the answer to a question. Eternity is in the present. Eternity is in the palm of the hand. Eternity is a seed of fire whose sudden roots break barriers that keep my heart from being an abyss."


- Thomas Merton





“To look at life without words is not to lose the ability to form words- to think, remember, and plan. To be silent is not to lose your tongue. On the contrary, it is only through silence that one can discover something new to talk about. One who talked incessantly, without stopping to look and listen, would repeat himself ad nauseam. 

It is the same with thinking, which is really silent talking. It is not, by itself, open to the discovery of anything new, for its only novelties are simply arrangements of old words and ideas.”


- Alan Watts





Nothing Gold Can Stay

by Robert Frost

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.



The American poet, Dana Gioia, writes about the poem here.



And one last poem, by Billy Collins, a popular one, I suppose, one I return to. It's been a quiet week in many ways as Rob has been away on an artist in residence gig in Iowa.

I've slept horribly this week, woke up with a killer cold this morning. Will be really glad to go and pick him up from the airport late tomorrow night, though. Meanwhile, silence. Kinds of silence.



Silence

by Billy Collins

There is the sudden silence of the crowd
above a player not moving on the field,
and the silence of the orchid.

The silence of the falling vase
before it strikes the floor,
the silence of the belt when it is not striking the child.

The stillness of the cup and the water in it,
the silence of the moon
and the quiet of the day far from the roar of the sun.

The silence when I hold you to my chest,
the silence of the window above us,
and the silence when you rise and turn away.

And there is the silence of this morning
which I have broken with my pen,
a silence that had piled up all night

like snow falling in the darkness of the house—
the silence before I wrote a word
and the poorer silence now.





The photos are from a frosty day last week. (I seem to be behind in everything, including the photos....).  There is a lovely silence out there in the field on such a day. Just me and the dog.









And there he is :)












1 comment:

  1. Thank you for the walk. The silence between footfalls on the frost.

    ReplyDelete

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