Be someone's light
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Be someone's light
Monday, January 16, 2012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
We look at colors of the dark night
Sprinkled with sounds of silence
To dance our slow dance
When crickets sing in a distance
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Monday, January 09, 2012
Sunday, January 08, 2012
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.
Friday, January 06, 2012
Thursday, January 05, 2012
"Curves" by Neha
If you could offer me
One hour of repose
In which my soul might find peace;
If you could reveal to the darkest recesses of my mind,
My true self and the truth of my world.
Were it to come to pass, I would say
To the fleeting moment:
Stay, for thou art beautiful!
Then might I die
And let fearsome hell engulf me
"Arrestati, sei bello" Stay. For you are so beautiful.