My Dear friend Maija sent me this sweet and thoughtful gift which I found in my mailbox today. She found this great horse necklace at Silver Bella and said I had to have it. What a gal - how lucky am I?
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Lord, the air smells good today, straight from the mysteries within the inner courts of God. A grace like new clothes thrown across the garden, free medecine for everybody. The trees in their prayer, the birds in praise, the first blue violets kneeling. Whatever came from Being is caught up in being, drunkenly forgetting the way back.
The idea: We have words that touch us, move into our hearts and resonate, creating a feeling, taking us some place- past, present, future- perhaps some place we have never been and may never go, but for whatever reasons, the words pulse in our blood. Meeting new words, new poets, new poems, new ways for my heart to beat, is an intruiging concept. Want to go on this adventure with me? It will be easy to travel along.
Many of us already do this sharing; this idea is just to help us find each other and hear the words we have to share.
The Date: Wednesday, November 19.
The Plan: on your blog, post a poem that moves inside you, touches you, reaches you. (quotes and song lyrics welcome). Include the author (or composer or musician) and source (book, album)- perhaps also the amazon link if there is one. no explanation required, no other revelation necessary.
One last thing- Perhaps add an image. a photo. a video. a painting. a collage., if you would.
Come here to this post. Add a comment with your link.
I'll create a typepad page with the links, so others can hear the rhythm of the words, see the image and share in the experience.
These are my new favorite shoes - I love them. They are so comfy - Have a pair in teal as well. Dansko Midori Clogs Rock! The hard part is finding fun socks to wear with them- what's up with that = not that I need to worry in So Cal's 90 degree weather - oh fall where are you?
Coming down out of the freezing
sky with its depths of light, like an angel, or a Buddha with wings, it
was beautiful, and accurate, striking the snow and whatever was there with
a force that left the imprint of the tips of its wings — five feet apart
— and the grabbing thrust of its feet, and the indentation of what had
been running through the white valleys of the snow — and then it rose,
gracefully, and flew back to the frozen marshes to lurk there, like a
little lighthouse, in the blue shadows — so I thought: maybe death
isn't darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us
as soft as feathers — that we
are instantly weary of looking, and looking, and shut our eyes, not without
amazement, and let ourselves be carried, as through the translucence of
mica, to the river that is without the least dapple or shadow, that is
nothing but light — scalding, aortal light — in which we are washed and
washed out of our bones.