January 25th, 2007

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Good Morning!!

Today is a writing day for me.  I am firmly settled in my chair.   Bella is in her chair next to me and Tiger is asleep curled on his "condo" nearby.  The heater is running;  birds are singing, and mist softens the day.

Big excitement today awakened Bella.  She heard a spider walking across the ceiling.  There was some animation as she tried to figure out how to reach the spider, but it found its way across the ceiling and is now resting in the bookcase.

Bella and Tiger are back to sleep.  I marvel at their capacity to be asleep and curled, and yet, to respond so quickly to the environment.  I am working with their sensitivity this morning, trying to train my thoughts to float down into my fingers that stroke these keys and present in a form I can pass from me to you.  I am struck today with the "miracles" of modern technology.  Wow!!

We live better than kings and queens of the past and with more connection. 

 Rejoice!!  

Our crowns reach into the sky and finger a dance with the stars.  
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Balance -


"Remember that there is nothing stable in human affairs; therefore avoid undue elation in prosperity, or undue depression in adversity."

- Socrates (469 BC - 399 BC)


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How one this world and us -


Jacki sends me this beautiful poem.  It gives me a pause as I know it will you. 

She is in healing mode and points something out to me that I had not quite put into words or thought.  When we are healing, we are so aware of the thinness between the world and ourselves.  We have a chance to feel how both are one, and then, we heal and go back to our individual selves, but when we are healing, we need others.   There is no pretense of independence.   I work now with keeping that place of connection while well.




The Word

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between "green thread"
and "broccoli" you find
that you have penciled "sunlight."

Resting on the page, the word
is as beautiful, it touches you
as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
he had sent you from some place distant
as this morning -- to cheer you up,
 
and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing,

that also needs accomplishing
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
 without a clue

 but today you get a telegram,
 from the heart in exile
  proclaiming that the kingdom

 still exists,
 the king and queen alive,
 still speaking to their children,

 to any one among them
 who can find the time,
 to sit out in the sun and listen.

  -Tony Hoagland


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August in January -


Beverly sends this poem and column today.  It is quite wonderful to have poems arrive in my email box.  I love it!!


American Life in Poetry: Column 071

BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE, 2004-2006

William Carlos Williams, one of our country's most influential poets  and a New Jersey physician, taught us to celebrate daily life. Here  Albert Garcia offers us the simple pleasures and modest mysteries of  a single summer day.


 August Morning

 It's ripe, the melon
 by our sink. Yellow,
 bee-bitten, soft, it perfumes
 the house too sweetly.
 At five I wake, the air
 mournful in its quiet.
 My wife's eyes swim calmly
 under their lids, her mouth and jaw
 relaxed, different.
 What is happening in the silence
 of this house? Curtains
 hang heavily from their rods.
 Ficus leaves tremble
 at my footsteps. Yet
 the colors outside are perfect--
 orange geranium, blue lobelia.
 I wander from room to room
 like a man in a museum:
 wife, children, books, flowers,
 melon. Such still air. Soon
 the mid-morning breeze will float in
 like tepid water, then hot.
 How do I start this day,
 I who am unsure
 of how my life has happened
 or how to proceed
 amid this warm and steady sweetness?


     Poem copyright (c) by Albert Garcia from his latest book "Skunk  Talk"

    (Bear Starr Press, 2005) and originally published in "Poetry  East," No. 44. Reprinted by permission of the author. This weekly  column is
    supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of  Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska- Lincoln.