10.6.15

Here are some weekend words for you:

10/3/15

Today I picked up an acorn

and all around me were lights

and sirens

and symbols of strife.

Today I put a shining acorn

in my hand

and felt the line where it’s

cap had been.

Though the dark globe was spinning,

hurling rocks at innocence

moving every which way,

I held the acorn like a telescope

to cover the setting sun.





And here is the antidote to the feeling in that piece, with something that showed up in my inbox. Sometimes we need these things. (By Walt Whitman)



That Music Always Round Me




That music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning, yet long untaught I did not hear,

But now the chorus I hear and am elated,


A tenor, strong, ascending with power and health, with glad notes of daybreak I hear,

A soprano at intervals sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense waves,

A transparent base shuddering lusciously under and through the universe,

The triumphant tutti, the funeral wailings with sweet flutes and violins, all of these I fill myself with,

I hear not the volumes of sound merely, I am moved by the exquisite meanings,

I listen to the different voices winding in and out, striving, contending with fiery vehemence to excel each other in emotion;

I do not think the performers know themselves—but now I think I begin to know them.