I feel refreshed today, rise early and meditate, look out on cloudy skies but not yet rain.
I choose this poem this morning for Barack Obama. I was driving a great deal yesterday and listening to discussions on talk shows about the beauty of Obama's prose, rhetoric, delivery. The substance is on his web-site. Hillary doesn't want to admit that. He speaks to inspire, and we can go to the web-site and read what Hillary's jealousy, anger, and fear, are not yet letting in. Oddly, I think if she could relax, she would be for him. He could use her support, and that would be an unbeatable uniting. May that be so. As this poem so eloquently states: "While all bodies share / the same fate, all voices do not."
Here is a poem by Li-Young Lee.
IN HIS OWN SHADOW
He is seated in the first darkness
of his body sitting in the lighter dark
of the room,
the greater light of day behind him,
beyond the windows, where
Time is the country.
His body throws two shadows:
One onto the table
and the piece of paper before him,
and one onto his mind.
One makes it difficult for him to see
the words he's written and crossed out
on the paper. The other
keeps him from recognizing
another master than Death. He squints.
He reads: Does the first light hide
inside the first dark?
He reads: While all bodies share
the same fate, all voices do not.
from Behind My Eyes