It’s been a long day

germany

Don’t be afraid to suffer—take your heaviness
and give it back to the earth’s own weight;
the mountains are heavy,
the oceans are heavy.

– Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Poetry of Rilke; “Sonnets to Orpheus


Notes:

It’s been a long day

DSC_5311_sf. Nepal, 11/2013. Young boy is resting on a cow.

People who dream when they sleep at night know of a special kind of happiness which the world of the day holds not, a placid ecstasy, and ease of heart, that are like honey on the tongue.

~ Isak Dinesen, from Out of Africa


Notes:

It’s been a long day

God has mercifully ordered that the human brain works slowly;
first the blow,
hours afterwards the bruise.

Walter de la Mare, from the The Return.


Notes:

It’s been a long day

Endurance comes only from enduring.
With a flick of the wrist I fashioned an invisible rope,
And climbed it and it held me.

Czeslaw Milosz, from a “A Magic Mountain” in New and Collected Poems (1931-2001)


Notes:

It’s been a long day

What many discover is that the need to do, accomplish, and succeed perpetually replenishes itself. My father regarded lulls not as a grace but rather as enemies. His generational, class, and personal baggage was such that the only thing that mattered was Work (of the big W variety, not the small w work of cleaning up and tending to family life). Work was a form of mesmerism and ego refuge: best to keep going.

~ Kyo Maclear, Birds Art Life: A Year of Observation


Notes:

It’s been a long day

friendly-monster-tired


Notes:

It’s been a long day (15 sec)

 


Notes:

It’s been a long day

blue-face-peace

Maybe poems are made of breath,

the way water, cajoled to boil,

says,

This is my soul, freed.

Dean Young, from “Scarecrow on Fire,” Fall Higher

 


Notes:

It’s been a long day

leg-feet-woman

All afternoon I have been walking over the dunes, hurrying from one thick raft of the wrinkled, salt roses to another, leaning down close to their dark or pale petals, red as blood or white as snow. And now I am beginning to breathe slowly and evenly – the way a hunted animal breathes, finally, when it has galloped and galloped – when it is wrung dry, but, at last, is far away, so the panic begins to drain from the chest, from the wonderful legs, and the exhausted mind.

Oh sweetness pure and simple, may I join you?

I lie down next to them, on the sand. But to tell
about what happens next, truly I need help.

Will somebody or something please start to sing?

~ Mary Oliver, “The Roses” from Blue Iris: Poems and Essays


Notes:

I have done this a few times

rest-sit-woman-portrait

[…]
How wonderful it is
to follow a thought quietly

to its logical end.
I have done this a few times.

But mostly I just stand in the dark field,
in the middle of the world, breathing

in and out. Life so far doesn’t have any other name
but breath and light, wind and rain.
[…]

~ Mary Oliver, from “What Is There Beyond Knowing” from New and Selected Poems, Volume Two


Notes:

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