Moonset

to everything
a beauty
sharp as knives
when i turn my eyes upon it
it cuts to my marrow
bisects my soul
i knew this place
was lovely
at first sight
now it fills me with quiet longing
desperation
to know it better
to have a place there
in the sage
and wind
like everything else
four legged and winged


http://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2017/11/26/13412/

Monday Morning Inspos


…slipped back to some tiny New Mexico details this morning for a little color and texture inspiration.

Abide

Here, let me translate.
There is something built of ether and silk.  To reach it, to reach the sky, we need a scaffolding of light.  We must climb past the clouds, into the stars.  There, when we look down at our hands, we see we are holding each other and this great undefinable thing that feels like love but is greater still is holding us all as we hold each other.  When we sigh it is dust and ash and a stirring of the bright fragments of everything we have ever lost or gained, loved or hated.  There, we abide.

A great fog settled over the farm this morning and as I walked around in it and tended our critters I was reminded of this poem:

“I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough
to make every moment holy.
I am too tiny in this world, and not tiny enough
just to lie before you like a thing,
shrewd and secretive.
I want my own will, and I want simply to be with my will,
as it goes toward action;
and in those quiet, sometimes hardly moving times,
when something is coming near,
I want to be with those who know secret things
or else alone.
I want to be a mirror for your whole body,
and I never want to be blind, or to be too old
to hold up your heavy and swaying picture.
I want to unfold.
I don’t want to stay folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.
and I want my grasp of things to be
true before you. I want to describe myself
like a painting that I looked at
closely for a long time,
like a saying that I finally understood,
like the pitcher I use every day,
like the face of my mother,
like a ship
that carried me
through the wildest storm of all.”
[Rilke]

http://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2017/11/11/13373/