soul gazing

Eclipse

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice–

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

“Mend my life!”

each voice cried.

But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do–

determined to save

the only life you could save. 

– Mary Oliver, The Journey

August_break_flat 

 

I’ll return my dreams to earth

Migration-small

A secret came a week ago though I already

knew it just beyond the bruised lips of consciousness.

The very alive souls of thirty-five hundred dead birds

are harbored in my body. It’s not uncomfortable.

I’m only temporary habitat for these not-quite-

weightless creatures. I offered a wordless invitation

and now they’re roosting within me, recalling

how I had watched them at night

in fall and spring passing across earth moons,

little clouds of black confetti, chattering and singing

on their way north or south. Now in my dreams

I see from the air the rumpled green and beige,

the watery face of earth as if they’re carrying

me rather than me carrying them. Next winter

I’ll release them near the estuary west of Alvarado

and south of Veracruz. I can see them perching

on undiscovered Olmec heads. We’ll say goodbye

and I’ll return my dreams to earth.

– Jim Harrison, “Birds Again”

Sunset-migration-small

Hollowed in Green

Dreamscape

High, hollowed in green

above the rocks of reason

lies the crater lake

whose ice the dreamer breaks

to find a summer season.

 

‘He will plunge like a plummet down

far into hungry tides’

they cry, but as the sea

climbs to a lunar magnet

so the dreamer pursues

the lake where love resides.

 

– Denise Levertov

August_break_flat


DM

Forever – is composed of Nows

Appearance2

 

Forever – is composed of Nows –

‘Tis not a different time –

Except for Infiniteness –

And Latitude of Home –

 

From this – experienced Here –

Remove the Dates – to These –

Let Months dissolve in further Months –

And Years – exhale in Years –

 

Without Debate – or Pause –

Or Celebrated Days –

No different Our Years would be

From Anno Dominies –

 

– Emily Dickinson

 

August_break_flat


Dm2

© Copyright Carla Kurt - Designed by Pexeto