unask

 

a yellow flower

A yellow flower
(Light and spirit)
Sings by itself
For nobody.

A golden spirit
(Light and emptiness)
Sings without a word
By itself.

Let no one touch this gentle sun
In whose dark eye
Someone is awake.

(No light, no gold, no name, no color
And no thought:
O, wide awake!)

A golden heaven
Sings by itself
A song to nobody.

 

Thomas Merton

 

 

O greening branch

 

O greening branch!
You stand in your nobility

Like the rising dawn.
Rejoice now and exult

And deign to free the fools we are
From our long slavery to ignorance

And hold out your hand
To raise us up.

 

Hildegard of Bingen

 

 

 

scamel

there is a new entry in our scamel blog.

 

 

 

the silver glimpse

 

I am the silver glimpse, in the corner of your eye.
I am the needle in the haystack,
the elegance of the unexpected,
the dazzling brightness, the exceptional.

I am the slip, between the cup and the lip.
I am why you touch wood. I am dangerous.
Without me, everything would be known
and nothing would be beautiful.

I shimmer; I am difficult.
I am what it is, when you can’t get what you want.
I am the dream you can’t remember, and long for
the interrupted poem
the unsatisfactory narrative.

 

From the play Limitless Bliss, by Deirdre Burton and Tom Davis

 

 

the grey cat

 

How I envy Mrs. Payne and her husband
Who felt unusual throbbing sensations
A year ago at the Washington Park Zoo
In Portland, Oregon, and knew they were eavesdropping
On the secret code of elephants;
Or Dr. David Gibo, who built a hang-glider
And soared with the monarch butterflies,
Breasting the blue thermals—

For the grey cat is calling, but not to me.
From out of his own wilderness
Only his black-banded banner of a tail
Signals where he is headed under the ghost-pale moon
That, silent and alone,
Continues to sail toward California
Between the yellow flower that opens in the morning
And the bleu lumière of afternoon.

 

Constance Urdang

 

 

the giver of light

 

and then my heart
pulled itself apart
and filled to the brim
with a new light
overflowed with fresh life

now even the heavens
are thankful that
because of love
i have become
the giver of light

 

Rumi, ghazal 1393

 

 

an orchid shines

 

Suddenly, the beloved. Everywhere.

The way a street lamp curves its light
or an orchid shines in an empty room.

Like hearing, constantly, the sea:
the continuous activity of love.

The air changes. There is a memory
somewhere, no, a scent of change:

like learning, suddenly, a new language
and not understanding a single word.

 

Tom Davis, after Neruda

 

 

friendship

 

Such love I cannot analyse;
It does not rest in lips or eyes,
Neither in kisses nor caress.
Partly, I know, it's gentleness

And understanding in one word
Or in brief letters. It's preserved
By trust and by respect and awe.
These are the words I'm feeling for.

Two people, yes, two lasting friends.
The giving comes, the taking ends.
There is no measure for such things.
For this all Nature slows and sings.

 

Elizabeth Jennings