And we, who have always thought Of happiness as rising, would feel The emotions that almost overwhelms us Whenever a happy thing falls. Rilke...
Sometimes a man rises from the supper table and goes outside. And he keeps on going because somewhere to the east there’s a church. His children bless his name as if he were dead. Another man stays at home until he dies, stays with plates and glasses. So then it is...Read More
Want the change. Be inspired by the flame where everything shines as it disappears. The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much as the curve of the body as it turns away. What locks itself in sameness has congealed. Is it safer to be gray and numb? What turns hard becomes...Read More
for T.W. Power stepped into his hiding place: at once a presence he could not mistake. He begged the Angel—pure, erect, ablaze— to leave him as he was. He would forsake all his ambitions; it was best he stayed that baffled, over-traveled man of trade. He'd never learned his letters…and now such a...Read More
I love the dark hours of my being. My mind deepens into them. There I can find, as in old letters, the days of my life, already lived, and held like a legend, and understood. Then the knowing comes: I can open to another life that's wide and timeless. So I am...Read More
You, darkness, of whom I am born-- I love you more that the flame that limits the world to the circle it illuminates and excludes all the rest. But the dark embraces everything: shapes and shadows, creatures and me, people, nations--just as they are. It lets me imagine a great presence stirring beside me. I...Read More