W.S. Merwin https://t.co/4yKNoamIFs
But now it has happened,
No use in talking
The silence between me and you
Has never had meaning.
It was, love it, that was all
That was asked.
But now it has happened,
No words for the foretime,
The desperation has made me the same,
Has made me another.
Who looks at the shape of the fish
Grow giant on the side of his bowl,
Who walks on the terrace
Observing fol... See more
No use in talking
The silence between me and you
Has never had meaning.
It was, love it, that was all
That was asked.
But now it has happened,
No words for the foretime,
The desperation has made me the same,
Has made me another.
Who looks at the shape of the fish
Grow giant on the side of his bowl,
Who walks on the terrace
Observing fol... See more
Unknown • CHET ON POETRY (Chet Baker)
the language a mirror for seeing the animacy of the world, the life that pulses through all things, through pines and nuthatches and mushrooms. This is the language I hear in the woods; this is the language that lets us speak of what wells up all around
Robin Wall Kimmerer • Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants
The trees were reminders of both our own ephemerality and their endurance long beyond ours, and in their uprightness they stood in the landscape like guardians and witnesses.
Rebecca Solnit • Orwell's Roses
A. E. Housman
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
The poet encounters the truncated beauty of an ancient statue that, even without the glare of eyes, makes him feel seen. Standing mesmerized before the stone that seems alive, the narrator beholds himself anew. The encounter is a recognition that yields the stark conclusion of the poem: “You must change your life.”