“Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances.”

24 August 2008


Day Seven: A Deep Breath.
"...there are no secrets. Life is and will always be a mystery." Charlotte gifts us with the return of objects lost and i move closer to realizing dream horse paddock, goddess willing. hot bright day. make nice with dubious neighbors over dogs, entertain headache for third day. shes still away and will be for awhile i have to reconfigure my boundaries and intentions. to stand under the window like an elvis fan and wait for a sign is not what i came for. she calls and its more like watching from shore now, the little boat appearing disappearing the rowing and the wondering and what good does it do to stand and watch? hot hot day quick walk with the dog that brought the dream closer, inside with cold water and the book i surrendered to a day ago merciless crescendo of a book evening comes cool with thunder i look forward to a night of rain and deep dreams good to have both boys here #3 now taller than i, both funny and sweet tomorrow therell be the neighbors eggs to bake a sweet with and maybe ill paint something on the canvas you brought home. still riding the wave of fridays liberation from fruitless briarpatch of a headspace, the whole shining religion of him and music and wine. depleted by the heat i untie in the water closet and call it a day.
"And if the question were asked: What is more real, the mundane or the sublime? most would hesitate before they gave an answer. On the one side, details: say, the aftermath of a breakfast, dirty chipped plates in the sink, their rims encrusted with egg yolk. Against this, the unnameable: small aching heart with boasts, what can you know? Outside the cage of everything we ever heard or saw, beyond, outside, above, there lies the real, hiding as long as we shall live, there stretch and trail the millions of names of God burning across the eons. When all through this our end will come before we even know the names of us.

For many the egg yolk prevails." -L.M.

"Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well." -V.V.G.

"The perfection of the Absolute where all Becoming stops and pure Being, immutable, timeless, unchanging, hangs forever like a ripe peach upon the bough." -E.A.

"...and the whole incident was incredibly frazzling and angst-rod and filled almost a whole mead notebook and is here recounted in only its barest psycho-skeletal outline." -D.F.W.

"At the top of the mountain, we are all snow leopards." -H.S.T.

"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." -D.T.
"Cometh a voice: My children, hear; From the crowded street and the close-packed mart I call you back with my message clear, back to my lap and my loving heart. Long have ye left me, journeying on by range and river and grassy plain, to the teeming towns where the rest have gone - come back, come back to my arms again. So shall ye lose the foolish needs that gnaw your souls; and my touch shall serve to heal the fretted nerve. Treading the turf that ye once loved well, instead of the stones of the city's street, ye shall hear nor din nor drunken yell, but the wind that croons in the ripening wheat. I that am old have seen long since ruin of palaces made with hands for the soldier-king and the priest and prince whose cities crumble in desert sands. But still the furrow in many a clime yields softly under the ploughman's feet; still there is seeding and harvest time, and the wind still croons in the ripening wheat. The works of man are but little worth; for a time they stand, for a space endure; but turn once more to your mother - Earth, my gifts are gracious, my works are sure. Instead of the strife and pain I give you peace, with its blessing sweet. Come back, come back to my arms again, for the wind still croons in the ripening wheat."
-John Sandes, The Earth-Mother (excerpt, 1918)