A painting, a poem

Woman sleeping in a bath by Malka Mitzner on Etsy

The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.

I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?

I hear my being dance from ear to ear.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?

God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,

And learn by going where I have to go

.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?

The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do

To you and me, so take the lively air,

And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.

What falls away is always. And is near.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I learn by going where I have to go.

Theodore Roethke

 

Many thanks to Malka Mitzner for permission to use her captivating painting. Phew. I would like to say so much more about this moving poem and other clever things, but I feel like I've used up all my words after spending the day writing an advertorial. Do you ever feel like your communication has a finite limit?

I'm going to drag the whole family to the beach. Maybe I can do a little reset while my toes are in the sand...

A photo, a poem

Cockspur Bush

I am lived. I am died.
I was two-leafed three times, and grazed,
but then I was stemmed and multiplied,
sharp-thorned and caned, nested and raised,
earth-salt by sun-sugar. I was innerly sung
by thrushes who need fear no eyed skin thing.
Finched, ant-run, flowered, I am given the years
in now fewer berries, now more of sling
out over directions of luscious dung.
Of water crankshaft, of gases the gears
my shape is cattle-pruned to a crown spread sprung
above the starve-gut instinct to make prairies
of everywhere. My thorns are stuck with caries
of mice and rank lizards by the butcher bird.
Inches in, baby seed-screamers get supplied.
I am lived and died in, vine woven, multiplied.

Les Murray

Thank so much to Kelly Angard for permission to use her photo, Botanica Obscura 2. The dark richness and dainty flower sit in oppostion to the glaring imagery of dust, heat and the prickly cockspur bush.
 I also have to thank Kelly for introducing me to the poetry of Theodore Roethke, who I will introduce you to very soon. It is always such a pleasure to talk to poetry lovers and share the words around.