Fragile

`

Fragile like smog shadows rifling valleys

the mountain holds its breath

~

Fragile like feverish water

the ocean aborts the moon’s children

~

Fragile like bees losing direction

and stamens playing their last hands

~

Fragile like children born overwhelmed

by viruses perplexed

~

Fragile still

like a flower

self-sewing in the garden

in blooming will make no mistakes

Intelligence in its unfolding

~

~

“The Sky is falling. The sky is falling”

Painting and poem by Jana White

Instagram @jana_h_white

Helene

 

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool

shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and

serenity of distant fields and meadows … then let

your heart say in silence, “God rests in reason.”

And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind

shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning

proclaim the majesty of the sky … then let your heart

say in awe, “God moves in passion.”

And since you are a breath in God’s sphere, and a

leaf in God’s forest, you too should rest in reason

and move in passion.

~~~~~~~~

Excerpted from “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran

Painting by Jana White

@jana_h_white

     
 

The birds alight

~

Firmly rooted in the strength of grace

the birds alight on the stiff raised arms of poets

balanced on one foot in the spaces left standing

between the tenuous structures that remain

~

Insubstantial and vaguely reminiscent

~

The flooding waters begin to recede

as the detritus of the displaced

live on in our frightened prayers and their own cardboard hollows

carrying the burden of our collective magnificence

~

The sun arrives late as the dogs and donkeys

shiver in the new light … in the heat

in the washed out fragrance of urine and slowly drying fear

their familiar trails erased how will they find home?

~

Tree limbs with radial fractures leaves crushed

a chaotic maze of leaching chlorophyll

roots holding to rocks waiting for loosened soil

to settle the wail of a child

~

The water heavy with suffering, eddies in wrong places

weary from the seizures of epileptic unbalance

made other and reduced to an inventory of unfamiliar relationship

to wood to concrete to flesh

~

the eye looks for one familiar thing in its place with another

a chair and a table, a table and a glass, a glass and a pitcher,

a single glass and a pitcher the thirsty eye raised

to rest for a moment on a recognizable sky

~

the sun comes up

and the birds continue to alight

on the stiff raised arms of poets

~

                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rhythms…

~

Riding the currents

sleeping through storms

treading water in the dark

~

sparks of harmonics

fly from my pen

~

my hand

the sentient animal

of my heart

~

~

An older poem …. words float and land. improvisational rhythms. their own kind of precision. different relationship each time. they’re just there….perhaps have always been

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In my house of open windows

SallyMann

~

“…. for a conditioned love loses its infinity, and in losing its infinity love is no longer love. In short, the highest expression of love as found in Hafiz’s poetry – is for love to create another perfect in its composition, without any bounds or conditions, infinite and completely, eternally free.”

~

her waist

that God

created out

of nothing

is so slender

none created

can embrace it

In response ….

In my house of open windows

When you enter the garden

and sing to me of your sorrows

in harmony with the songs

of the night birds

I weave each sorrowful note

into a carpet of prayer

for us to lie on

praising

our Beloved

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Photo: “Deep South” by Sally Mann

Translation of Hafiz by Peter Booth

“Dante/Hafiz Readings on the Sigh, the Gaze, and Beauty” by

Franco Masciandaro and Peter Booth

I send my voice out until breathless…

3

~

There is a mountain

within me

An inheritance

that has now become a polished stone

nestled in flesh,

in blood rich organ

~

A nameless sadness, it nestles close

real as the moon’s rise,

born within

a pit in the stomach

a seed in the heart

~

“Take this strange sorrow from me. It is bottomless,” I cry

as I walk up and down

the mourning side of my mountain.

~

At the top of the mountain

I yodel like a fool…

sounds and sobs issue with spittle and tears

I send my voice out

until breathless

~

But not spent

~

In the quieting down

I understand this weight is a broken seam

that can not be healed

It is the rend in the garment

of the turning in and the turning away from.

~

This broken seam can only be mended

cauterized by the flame that burns

in an open heart

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Artist: Johan Christian Dahl  1821

becoming Beauty

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~

Becoming Beauty

face up floating

in a sea of glass

~

Beauty lies below me

 in the elemental caprice of

sunlit patterns reflecting sky

~

Beauty circles above me

in clouds collecting salted tears

We all become the ocean when it rains

~

Beauty walks behind me

with gravity leaving footprints

Its strength the shifting sands

~

The wind of Beauty

blows quietly within me

ever seeking itself without measure

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The source of this gorgeous photo is unknown

Fragile still

max ernst

~

Fragile like smog shadows rifling valleys

the mountain holds its breath

~

Fragile like feverish water

the ocean aborts the moon’s children

~

Fragile like bees loosing direction

and stamens playing their last hands

~

Fragile like children born overwhelmed

by viruses perplexed

~

Fragile still

like a flower 

self-sewing in the garden

in blooming will make no mistake

intelligence in its unfolding

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Artist: Max Ernst

The unbearable awkwardness of three

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~

Doubt and Belief silently argue

as they sit upon a box

~

Trust joins them

adding 3 wheels to the box

~

giving much needed mobility

to their ping-pong debate

~

everyone’s muscles still tense

when they pass Hope or Violence

~

as they meander

around the countryside

~

looking for the exact spot

where their grief is buried

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

photo credit: unknown