I can't sleep…
the hour of twelve noon
And so you feel
your hair caught up in the sun’s fingers
holding you free in the light and the wind.
~ Yiannis Ritsos, from “Summer,” in Repetitions, Testimonies, Parentheses
Notes: Poem via the distance between two doors. Photo: Alexander Kozhevnikov (via see more)
Let me seek then,
the gift of silence and solitude,
where everything I touch is turned into a prayer:
where the sky is my prayer,
the birds are my prayer,if
the wind in the trees is my prayer…
— Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude
Notes:
I would have them be like the branch of the olive tree.
That one which bides its time.
Then they will feel within them,
like the swirling gust which tests the tree,
the impulse of God’s breath.
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, from The Wisdom of the Sands
Notes:
I have news for you—
there are people who get up in the morning and cross a room
open a window to let the sweet breeze in
and let it touch them all over their faces and bodies.
– Tony Hoagland, from “I Have News For You” in Unincorporated Persons in the Late Honda Dynasty: Poems
Notes: Photo: Dark Mornings. Poem: Thank you Beth @ Alive on all Channels
Things don’t have purposes, as if the universe were a machine, where every part has a useful function. What’s the function of a galaxy? I don’t know if our life has a purpose and I don’t see that it matters. What does matter is that we’re a part. Like a thread in a cloth or a grass-blade in a field. It is and we are. What we do is like wind blowing on the grass.
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven
Notes: Quote – Thank you Beth @ Alive on all Channels. Photo: Scientific American