I leant upon a coppice gate, When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter’s dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The land’s sharp features seemed to me The Century’s corpse outleant, Its crypt the cloudy canopy, The wind its death-lament. The ancient pulse of germ and birth Was shrunken hard and...
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The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued. (Robert Frost)
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Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave Irreverent. Those sweet excesses that I do adore. What surety is there That we will meet again, On other worlds some Future time undated. I defy my body’s haste. Without the promise Of one more sweet encounter I will not deign to die (Maya...
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What is reverence? A formal posture in church such as kneeling, or something more? An attitude of mind, and heart? More than respect for God? Respect for others, and even the physical world around us? Sacred earth. The sole footing on which we stand. Like parrots perched, on a small ball we’re bound. Human squabbling; killing, warring—to what gain? Instead of recognizing we’re set on holy ground. With large arrogance we strut our...
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(by Diane Wolverton) I want to adore your body just as it is. I want to adore every scar, every fold and crevice. I want to know every hair, where all your moles are, every corn on your foot, and especially the places that make you insecure so I can adore them most of all. I want to notice every part of you, like the undulating ocean of your eyes and love especially the right one when it gets tired and a little bit red. I want to know...
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