
Morning Song
Dawn had taken in the stars And left the faint white moon. O white moon, you are lonely, It is the same with me, But we have the world to roam over, Only the lonely are free. -- Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
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Dawn had taken in the stars And left the faint white moon. O white moon, you are lonely, It is the same with me, But we have the world to roam over, Only the lonely are free. -- Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
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I live my life in widening circles that reach out across the world. I may not complete this last one, but I give myself to it. I have been circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years.
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There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your…
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We are all falling. This hand here is falling. And look at the others: it is in them all. Yet there is One who holds this falling infinitely gently in His hands. -- Rainer Maria Rilke
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落木千山天远大, 澄江一道月分明。 Fallen trees spread over a thousand mountains beneath a vast sky; One clear river reflects the bright moon. — Huang Tingjian 黄庭坚 (1045-1105)
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太乙近天都, 连山接海隅。 白云回望合, 青霭入看无。 Mount Zhongnan rises toward Heaven’s capital; Its ranges stretch to the edge of the sea. Looking back, white clouds close behind; Looking in, blue mist dissolves into nothing. — Wang Wei 王维 (701-761)
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A warm yellow light called me, far away from behind the trees. I was in doubt, should I go? Is it a dream or am I awake? –Jacob Berghoef
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He had been singing—but I had not heard his voice; He had been weaving lovely dreams of song, O many a morning long. — Charles Hanson Towne
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Layers of code. Strata of bone. A fractured self, never whole. I yield a shard to every voice that calls, a single eye open, watching both sides burn. — Jujube
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you shattered me into a thousand tiny pieces of my untamed self, and for once, i roared. — Jadine Lydia
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She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes… — Lord Byron
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Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility…
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