Thursday, June 6, 2013

easy as breath

The secret of poetry is never explained - is always new. We have not got farther than mere wonder at the delicacy of the touch, & the eternity it inherits. In every house a child that in mere play utters oracles, & knows not that they are such. 'Tis as easy as breath. 'Tis like this gravity, which holds the Universe together, & none knows what it is. 

— Ralph Waldo Emerson


  1. Beautiful... I love how you captured the little light dots in the fluff of "weed" - as if it is its own universe :) And then I see behind it in the blur, leaves as hands, cradling this fluff of a universe. Kind of puts things in perspective...

    I found this little piece by Mary Oliver that you might like...

    "Poetry is prayer. It is passion and story and music. It is beauty and comfort. It is agitation, declaration, it is thanksgiving... Often poetry is the gate to a new life. Or, sometimes, the restoration of an old world gone. Poetry can quicken and enliven the interior world of the listener. Poetry is a life-cherishing force... For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes, indeed."

    Your photo is also "poetry." With gratitude for your offerings... :)

  2. poetry? i'm not convinced we even know what language is but we lean into the wind keening with human ears to hear the voices and translate them to our tongue and heart anyway.


  3. I bet James loves these "wheels," Ruth. I wonder if his "words" have inspired any poetry in you? Surely!


Welcome. If you would like to say something, rest assured that I will respond in my self, even if I do not respond in word.