by Jane Miller March 10th and the snow flees like eloping brides into rain. The imperceptible change begins out of an old rage and glistens, chaste, with its new craving, spring. May your desire always overcome your need; your story that you have to tell, enchanting, mutable, may it fill the world you believe: a […]
by Kathryn Starbuck Who is that creature and who does he want? Me, I trust. I do not attempt to call out his name for fear he will tread on me. What do you believe, he asks. That we all want to be alone, I reply, except when we do not; that the world […]
by Said lord pray pray loudly against the noise of the human hand which seeks to drown you out and appear on quiet soles so that we might understand your footsteps exert yourself in order to recognize our prayers even when they appear in a different garment because no prayer ever looses itself from the […]
by Howard Nemerov Nature knits up her kinds in a network, not in a chain; but men can follow only by chains because their language can’t handle several things at once. -Albrecht von Haller This morning, between two branches of a tree Beside the door, epeira once again Has spun and signed his tapestry and […]
by Mary Oliver Sunrise You can die for it — an idea, or the world. People have done so, brilliantly, letting their small bodies be bound to the stake, creating an unforgettable fury of light. But this morning, climbing the familiar hills in the familiar fabric of dawn, I thought of China, and India and […]
by Czeslaw Milosz (pronounced CHEH-swahv MEE-wohsh) Faithful mother tongue, I have been serving you. Every night, I used to set before you little bowls of colors so you could have your birch, your cricket, your finch as preserved in my memory. This lasted many years. You were my native land; I lacked any other. I […]
by Kathleen Reeves It was something other than fear of death or love of the world, my friends, our plans— having waited so long to enter it I wanted to keep my body. Even when so many wore it down and even when it tormented me during my long death, I thought of it as a gift because I had come to love it unconditionally. Love: the word […]
by Wendell Berry Like the water of a deep stream, love is always too much. We did not make it. Though we drink till we burst, we cannot have it all, or want it all. In its abundance it survives our thirst. In the evening we come down to the shore to drink our fill, […]
by Denise Levertov To lie back under the tallest oldest trees. How far the stems rise, rise before ribs of shelter open! To live in the mercy of God. The complete sentence too adequate, has no give. Awe, not comfort. Stone, elbows of stony wood beneath lenient moss bed. And awe suddenly […]
by Rabindranath Tagore On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats […]