Nascent
I turn to take a measure
a stretch beyond my reach
yet the feelings keep spilling over
and I haven't a basket near
When I was a living pantomime
my soul was in desperate want
the strength to reach deep within
and bleed myself to life
posted by Martin Lanaux @ 4:49 AM
5 comments
5 Comments:
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You're up early this a.m. I've been reading A. Watts, On Zen, and from the Collected Poems of Wendell Berry. Then your poetry came to mind. If you bleed yourself to life, Berry suggest you stick your hands in the earth and die. Become one, I prefer to think.
........
Of late, I've taken to walking my woods...
sharpened blade in hand...
carving our names...
imperfect, wonky shaped hearts...
into...
ghost trees, sentinels of white...
growing along the water's edge...
sometimes...
massive, old oaks...
sure to be there long after I've returned to the Earth.
I carve slowly and thoughtfully...
Words like Forever and True...
Always and All Ways...
Little x's and o's...
Each tree different,
but the sentiment remains the same.
Love Is All There Is.
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You are so right Glory....so glad you are carving this important message into trees
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