O swallows, swallows, poems are not
The point. Finding again the world,
That is the point, where loveliness
Adorns intelligible things
Because the mind’s eye lit the sun.
---Howard Nemerov.
JCO led you to Rachmaninoff's Vespers (Shaw) and now to this, with her blue-sounding notes, and quiet melancholy. A state of mind that flourishes in the main by the united states of temperament, feeling, and insight.
'And what's new in the snow?
footmarks diverging
And what's new within?
Like the fine-hair thread of a galvanometer,
like a river's minute source,
someone is thinly laughing,
And therefore exists.'
---Holub.
~~~
and what's new with you except the snow within? the faint needle of memory pointing with its blue shadow to the life before the weight of the mind. The clear and silver point that separates the realms, the first letter on the blank script, lovingly inscribed with care and devotion. But why do you hold the pen with a red piece of cloth?
The point. Finding again the world,
That is the point, where loveliness
Adorns intelligible things
Because the mind’s eye lit the sun.
---Howard Nemerov.
JCO led you to Rachmaninoff's Vespers (Shaw) and now to this, with her blue-sounding notes, and quiet melancholy. A state of mind that flourishes in the main by the united states of temperament, feeling, and insight.
'And what's new in the snow?
footmarks diverging
And what's new within?
Like the fine-hair thread of a galvanometer,
like a river's minute source,
someone is thinly laughing,
And therefore exists.'
---Holub.
~~~
and what's new with you except the snow within? the faint needle of memory pointing with its blue shadow to the life before the weight of the mind. The clear and silver point that separates the realms, the first letter on the blank script, lovingly inscribed with care and devotion. But why do you hold the pen with a red piece of cloth?
5 comments:
how wonderful, the Nemerov...
soon the petal flurry outside will match the snow falling within, and the soul keeps on fumbling for the silver point which separates the realms,though all it really longs for is no separation...
good morning, b!
R~
hey, R, there you are! :-) where've you been?
gosh, we're in a romantic mood this morning, aren't we! ;-)
flurrying petals, silver points..er..yeah, what are we talking about, exactly?
Anyways, thanks for dropping in.
Take care ~R~
K.
Beautiful bit:
and what's new with you except the snow within? the faint needle of memory pointing with its blue shadow to the life before the weight of the mind. The clear and silver point that separates the realms, the first letter on the blank script, lovingly inscribed with care and devotion. But why do you hold the pen with a red piece of cloth?
U or JCO?
me, I'm afraid.
Don't be, B! Why so afraid :)...that's beautiful writing, right there.
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