Tuesday, September 30, 2014

still morning








It appears now that there is only one
age and it knows
nothing of age as the flying birds know
nothing of the air they are flying through
or of the day that bears them up
through themselves
and I am a child before there are words
arms are holding me up in a shadow
voices murmur in a shadow
as I watch one patch of sunlight moving
across the green carpet
in a building
gone long ago and all the voices
silent and each word they said in that time
silent now
while I go on seeing that patch of sunlight



~ W. S. Merwin
from Collected Poems (1996 - 2011)
art by emile claus


Saturday, September 13, 2014

imagination, paths of spirit







~ John O'Donohue