snow day
- At February 1, 2011
- By carla
- In digital art, Nikon D90, photography, poetry
5
In winter
all the singing is in
the tops of the trees
where the wind-bird
with its white eyes
shoves and pushes
among the branches.
Like any of us
he wants to go to sleep,
but he’s restless—
he has an idea,
and slowly it unfolds
from under his beating wings
as long as he stays awake.
But his big, round music, after all,
is too breathy to last.
So, it’s over.
In the pine-crown
he makes his nest,
he’s done all he can.
I don’t know the name of this bird,
I only imagine his glittering beak
tucked in a white wing
while the clouds—
which he has summoned
from the north—
which he has taught
to be mild, and silent—
thicken, and begin to fall
into the world below
like stars, or the feathers
of some unimaginable bird
that loves us,
that is asleep now, and silent—
that has turned itself
into snow.
– Mary Oliver, White Eyes
Autumn Movement
- At November 20, 2010
- By carla
- In digital art, Nikon D90, photography, poetry
1
I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman,
the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things
come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go,
not one lasts.
- Carl Sandburg
in search of stillness
- At November 14, 2010
- By carla
- In digital art, Nikon D90, photography
2
Know that you have a center.
Know that you belong there.
Know that the path to the center takes no effort.
– Deepak Chopra
Halcyon Days
- At November 8, 2010
- By carla
- In digital art, Nikon D90, photography, poetry
5
Stone worn
Overgrown
Pristine thorns
Sheep shorn
Tinkling below
Roofless walls
Rooks overlook
I told you so
Babbles the brook
– Samuel Menashe, “Ruins”
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