not quite the saffron robes i expected as a monk!
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Time is ticking. Berkeley will soon be the place I used to live. The place I'll probably come back to, though precisely when holds a tinge of mystery. For now, San Mateo will be my home.
Why on earth have I been sent to San Mateo?
tick-tock, tick-tock
Time is ticking. Berkeley will soon be the place I used to live. The place I'll probably come back to, though precisely when holds a tinge of mystery. For now, San Mateo will be my home.
Why on earth have I been sent to San Mateo?
0
1.
Hawk searches in spiral
for something to fill her belly,
keen eye concentrated on prey,
the gaze of attack so practiced she no longer sees rabbit,
but becomes it, no longer hustles through thermal,
but is herself a hot spiral of circular air.
The captivating quiet of dive continues
during strike and seize, only a sputter of struggle
heard across the prairie, the muffled rumble
of gnosis once again splitting, the mutter of death
an empty grassland whisper
amidst wind-swept tips.
2.
fish live in there.
dark pools of harbor.
fins of endless sway and dart.
gills that gulp from steady flow.
hovering in their cool pocket,
whole worlds pass by -
emergers and midges, nymphs
and bits of dislodged scum.
above, hatch upon hatch appear
in the late rays of light,
the descent of manna destined
to again disappear.
thus the hasty grasp
as a casual drift of caddis,
the about face of mistake
made painfully clear,
the split-decision of
struggle or surrender
as line tugs and slacks
toward either death
or the tenuous toss
of return.
3.
Ten days gone
and I return to full flower
of iris, a bounty of
crowned bow beside the window.
It leans in gently toward the pane,
this expiry of oxygen, this soaker of sun.
So much beauty in bloom.
I do not imagine iris
concentrate on their breathing,
nor watch themselves reach for the light.
They simply are what they know to do.
And I am the one who imagines,
who marvels at the grace
of their doing.
the nature of things
1.
Hawk searches in spiral
for something to fill her belly,
keen eye concentrated on prey,
the gaze of attack so practiced she no longer sees rabbit,
but becomes it, no longer hustles through thermal,
but is herself a hot spiral of circular air.
The captivating quiet of dive continues
during strike and seize, only a sputter of struggle
heard across the prairie, the muffled rumble
of gnosis once again splitting, the mutter of death
an empty grassland whisper
amidst wind-swept tips.
2.
fish live in there.
dark pools of harbor.
fins of endless sway and dart.
gills that gulp from steady flow.
hovering in their cool pocket,
whole worlds pass by -
emergers and midges, nymphs
and bits of dislodged scum.
above, hatch upon hatch appear
in the late rays of light,
the descent of manna destined
to again disappear.
thus the hasty grasp
as a casual drift of caddis,
the about face of mistake
made painfully clear,
the split-decision of
struggle or surrender
as line tugs and slacks
toward either death
or the tenuous toss
of return.
3.
Ten days gone
and I return to full flower
of iris, a bounty of
crowned bow beside the window.
It leans in gently toward the pane,
this expiry of oxygen, this soaker of sun.
So much beauty in bloom.
I do not imagine iris
concentrate on their breathing,
nor watch themselves reach for the light.
They simply are what they know to do.
And I am the one who imagines,
who marvels at the grace
of their doing.
0
Today is Feast Day for St. Therese of Lisieux. The Orthodox Church will celebrate Wednesday.
"Therese saw herself as a child of God - simple and focused. Trust, especially trust in God, is a childlike virtue. Some spiritualities have stressed complicated practices and extraordinary journeys of the soul; Therese's spirituality is simple and she calls it her "little way". She believed and teaches us that life presents enough challenges and opportunities for grace. She teaches us that God is everywhere - in every situation and person - and in the ordinary, simple details of life.
"My vocation is love."
Today is Feast Day for St. Therese of Lisieux. The Orthodox Church will celebrate Wednesday.
"Therese saw herself as a child of God - simple and focused. Trust, especially trust in God, is a childlike virtue. Some spiritualities have stressed complicated practices and extraordinary journeys of the soul; Therese's spirituality is simple and she calls it her "little way". She believed and teaches us that life presents enough challenges and opportunities for grace. She teaches us that God is everywhere - in every situation and person - and in the ordinary, simple details of life.
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