Showing posts with label Kahlil Gibran. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kahlil Gibran. Show all posts

Sunday, July 27, 2025

I'll See You in My Dreams (Bruce Springsteen)


To tell you the truth, I am not a fan of the Happy Heavenly Birthday greeting.  After 12 years of parochial school and a lifetime of Catholic religious upbringing (until I went away to college), I question the whole Heaven/Hell/Purgatory/Limbo scenario.  No one really *knows*, anyway... but, if I had to choose, my sensibilities favor the kinder gentler reincarnation theory.  Keep learning and growing with each cycle, being given the opportunity to work our way (up or down) the logical consequence of Karma.  

But I digress.

Today would have been Eric's 37th birthday.  Impossible to believe he's been gone almost two years (9/26/23).  I miss him every day and yes, there are times I fully expect him to step back into my life like he's never been gone... which seems normal because we incorporate him into so many things we do and say on a daily basis (especially through Sarah's Colin, E's mini-me).

To reprise something I wrote about Eric almost 20 years ago:  "My pregnancy with him was... unexpected... and he truly is a chosen child - he's been such a blessing, responsible for my gray hair, but all my laugh lines too. He's stubborn, witty, disorganized, kind-hearted, a know-it-all, generous - I must admit, when I get the most frustrated with him, I realize I'm exactly the same way."... 🤣

His life was going in such a forward-moving direction.  He had gone back to college and gotten his Business Administration degree.  He'd been dating a wonderful young woman, and left South Florida in March 2023 to be with her in Atlanta (saving up for a ring).  Found a great job up there too, which suited and validated his skill set.  Then, in the blink of an eye... 💔

Aren't I wise to have scheduled my monthly therapy appointment today?

POEM(S):  Make a Wish by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

 for JS

No cake and no you.
Still, I light a candle
on your birthday
and notice the way
one small flame
changes the feel
of a whole room.
I think of your light
and how many
gather around it,
how quietly you invite
the shadows to dance,
how gently one person
can change the world.


Loving the Gone by Sara Rian

happy birthday

they may not be here
to age another day.
but today we celebrate
that earth once held them.
because on the day they were born
so was one of the greatest loves.


At the heart of all grief is this:
I miss you so much my bones ache.
How do I carry all this love alone.
Please stop being dead
and come back home to me.
~ Nikita Gill


Love Letter from the Afterlife by Andrea Gibson

My love, I was so wrong. Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I ever could have imagined. So close you look past me when wondering where I am. It’s Ok. I know that to be human is to be farsighted. But feel me now, walking the chambers of your heart, pressing my palms to the soft walls of your living. Why did no one tell us that to die is to be reincarnated in those we love while they are still alive? Ask me the altitude of heaven, and I will answer, “How tall are you?” In my back pocket is a love note with every word you wish you’d said. At night I sit ecstatic at the loom weaving forgiveness into our worldly regrets. All day I listen to the radio of your memories. Yes, I know every secret you thought too dark to tell me, and love you more for everything you feared might make me love you less. When you cry I guide your tears toward the garden of kisses I once planted on your cheek, so you know they are all perennials. Forgive me, for not being able to weep with you. One day you will understand. One day you will know why I read the poetry of your grief to those waiting to be born, and they are all the more excited. There is nothing I want for now that we are so close I open the curtain of your eyelids with my own smile every morning. I wish you could see the beauty your spirit is right now making of your pain, your deep seated fears playing musical chairs, laughing about how real they are not. My love, I want to sing it through the rafters of your bones, Dying is the opposite of leaving. I want to echo it through the corridor of your temples, I am more with you than I ever was before.  Do you understand? It was me who beckoned the stranger who caught you in her arms when you forgot not to order for two at the coffee shop. It was me who was up all night gathering sunflowers into your chest the last day you feared you would never again wake up feeling lighthearted. I know it’s hard to believe, but I promise it’s the truth. I promise one day you will say it too– I can’t believe I ever thought I could lose you.

QUOTE(S):  "If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song." ~ Kahlil Gibran

"It's hard when you miss people.  But, you know, if you miss them it means you were lucky.  It means you had someone special in your life, someone worth missing." ~ Nathan Scott

"O Great Creator of Being, grant us one more hour to perform our art and perfect our lives." ~ Jim Morrison

Monday, September 20, 2021

Steady As We Go (Dave Matthews Band)

Full disclosure:  The below is text that I've tweaked/adapted and posted, in some form or another, every year on my blog and/or Facebook.  Despite  my husband's ability to drive me crazy more often than not, he also drives me crazy in the good kinda way, which you will understand if you're able to machete through my missive below (sorry/not sorry it's so long!).

I love him dearly, and I can't imagine being with anyone else for a lifetime; he truly is My Person... 💓

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tell the story of your marriage,” my young friend Niki says to me. “Write down how it is you have a happy marriage.” But the story of my marriage, which is the great joy and astonishment of my life, is too much like a fairy tale, the German kind, unsweetened by Disney.” ~ Ann Patchett, from her book of essays, The Story of a Happy Marriage

September 18, 2021 (this past Saturday) marked our 45th wedding anniversary.  It's been a long-standing joke of mine that, like the famous 12-step program, we do our marriage One Day at a Time (that would be 16,425 days, but who's counting?... 😃 )

Chico (given name Robert) and I met when he was a senior and I was a sophomore in college (Fall 1974).  One Sunday a group of my friends had been challenged to an impromptu football game by another group on campus, and I went along to watch. I was recruited to be one of the holders of the down-markers (two pointed brooms with string tied between).  Chico flirted with me all day, but saw me leaving with my "gang" and assumed I was dating one of them (I wasn't). The next day I was in my usual spot/routine in The Student Center, drinking coffee/reading a book/smoking cigarettes (gave up that bad habit when I found out I was pregnant with our daughter Sarah, over 38 years ago).  He came up, introduced himself to me and asked permission to sit down.

I was impressed by his good manners, among other things, and we were "an item" for the remainder of the year.  He graduated with a degree in Latin American Studies and got a job in Ft. Campbell, Kentucky with the Red Cross, counseling servicemen. I stayed to finish my degree and we carried on a long-distance relationship for the remaining two years, writing, calling, and visiting when we could.  The April of my senior year, during one of his visits, he asked me to marry him… and we rolled out of bed to call our parents to share the good news.  I graduated in June and we were married the following September.

An aside: During my last two years of school, I worked at a clothing boutique not far from the college.  I would walk there directly after classes, putting in about 30 hours a week and getting a 30% discount.  Chico and I had only been dating a few months when a beautiful dress came into the store.  I knew then I had to have it, whether to be married or buried (whichever came first) in such elegance, and I put it on layaway immediately. It was an off-white muslin with long, crocheted-lace sleeves and an empire bodice (very Guinevere-ish).  The big joke in my family is that, with my discount, I paid $28. When my wedding day was finally announced, my mom tried hard to talk me into something more traditional but I would not be swayed.  I still think it was the perfect dress… 💖

We stayed in our small college town for the next 8 years, moving temporarily to Atlanta en route to Puerto Rico for a company transfer (where we put in 4 1/2 years).  Back to Atlanta for almost three years and then to South Florida, where we've resided for the last 29. 

During the first twenty-five years of our marriage, Chico traveled quite a bit (twice a month, a week or more at a time). I've always been a strong and spirited soul and when the children were younger, we talked about the time he was away, not as better or worse but just different.  I belonged to AAA (although AA seemed more appropriate some days... 😉), I learned to fix small household items, I became responsible for my own entertainment.  When it had to be done, I did it. The worst were his two-week trips, when I didn't want to relax and appreciate having him home the weekend in-between, because it just meant giving him up again.  I learned various coping mechanisms, but I missed him.

Career moves found Chico home more, and the rest of us having to readjust, awkwardly at first, but happily.  He and I have always had separate interests (my music, his soccer), meeting in the middle more often than not for conversation, intimacy and intensity. 

My husband is of Brazilian descent and I am of Italian/Native American heritage... so emotions run high most of the time.  We pendulum between pondering what to name our wished-for houseboat when we retire... to me threatening to run away with the Renaissance Festival each February. 

My husband makes me crazy... and he makes me feel adored.  He is frustrating... and he is flattering. He is honest, even when I don't want to hear it... and I know I can trust his words and his actions (how many people in our lives can we say that about?!?).  He is intuitive, which is sometimes annoying but mostly a blessing. 

I wholeheartedly cherish our ongoing flare-ups, passions, commitment, disconnects, conversations, silences. It has never been easy; it has always been worthwhile.  As Brian Joseph sings in Cal’s Chevy:  “it ain’t easy… but it’s ours.”
I vowed that *happy* and *marriage* didn't have to be mutually exclusive.  My parents divorced after 29 years so I learned early on that one is never safe, and I try not to take it for granted.

Chico and I have made a conscious decision to stay together in this hectic and unsettling world (especially now during the pandemic). I crave and cherish my independence, but I don't worry any more that I'll have to "give in" (reminds me of a Dar Williams' song, In Love But Not at Peace: "I still need the beauty of words sung and spoken and I live with the fear that my spirit will be broken").  We seem to have forged a wonderful agreement where we both manage to get our own way a good bit of the time, but we haven't forgotten the art of the happy medium.

When we got married in 1976, a popular reading to include in weddings was “On Marriage” by Kahlil Gibran.  I loved it at the time, but even more so now.  The concept was, and remains, groundbreaking.  Remember these lines?

“You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. 
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God
But let there be spaces in your togetherness
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.”

I've spent the last few weeks re-evaluating what's kept us going these 4+ decades.  We have had just as many troubles as everyone else, but the risk is the reward, and the leap of faith is the longevity... and, to quote Jackson Browne, we just keep getting up and doing it again... amen... 🌅

I have always hated the term soulmate which, in my mind, used to conjure up images of Hallmark movies with couples joined-at-the-hip in that "you-complete-me" kinda way. Ugh. Many years ago, a dear friend (who is also a therapist) offered up her definition of soulmate:  someone who challenges you to be the best person you can be. Chico does that for me and, I'd like to think, I for him. We have "a head and a heart marriage" (a phrase I heard on a TV show recently). It suits us... ♥

When it comes to troubleshooting, I am in constant awe of Chico’s ability to stay calm, to let go and to move forward, in all aspects of his life.  His oft-repeated phrase is "let's not worry about how something got to be a problem; let's just figure out how to fix it". Wow.  With my tendency to finger-point, internalize and dramatize, he sets a wonderful example.

Chico loves me unconditionally, a status I am always trying to achieve but come up short.  I love him no less, but my family history includes strings attached, a very difficult pattern to break.

He is the calm to my storm, the ground to my clouds, the 33 1/3 to my 45, the waltz to my polka, the reason to my emotion, the carousel to my rollercoaster, the string to my kite, the balance to my spinning.  He supports but never suffocates, respects but never expects.

In an anniversary card one year, Chico thanked me for my enduring love and patience with his failings.  I can say the same.

Ups and downs, ins and outs, betters and worses go with the territory.  We've lived to tell about it ("fairy tales and diaper pails" indeed, as Amy Rigby sings).  My marriage has endured for many reasons (one of which is just good old-fashioned luck).  Cheers to the two of us for our perseverance, patience and passion with each other.  Tomorrow is another day!

SONGSteady As We Go by Dave Matthews Band (thanks to Sarah for sending this "just a love song" in our direction... 💕 )


for Willem

My love,
you are water upon water
upon water until it turns
azure, mountainous.

The horizon fills like sand
between glass marbles. So much
has passed between us—

last night you told me
to press your hand
harder and harder as I pained.

The sunset was at its last
embers. The dark was stealing
the blue light from our room.

I was falling into you.

~ ~

Compress water and it turns to ice— compress beauty
and it loses breath. Gaze at it too long, and even the wide
mirror of the ocean will shatter.

~ ~

My Willem,
between us, God has descended in all His atoms.
We have not yet learned to hold Him.

QUOTE:  "Wasn’t marriage, like life, unstimulating and unprofitable and somewhat empty when *too* well-ordered and protected and guarded. Wasn’t it finer, more splendid, more nourishing when it was, like life itself, a mixture of the sordid and the magnificent; of mud and stars; of earth and flowers; of love and hate and laughter and tears and ugliness and beauty and hurt." ~ Edna Ferber

Friday, September 18, 2020

Harvest Moon/You and Me (both by Neil Young)

Today, September 18, 2020 marks our 44th wedding anniversary.  It's been a long-standing joke of mine that, like the famous 12-step program, we do our marriage One Day at a Time (that would be 16,060 days, but who's counting?... :-)

Chico (given name Robert) and I met when he was a senior and I was a sophomore in college (Fall 1974).  One Sunday a group of my friends had been challenged to an impromptu football game by another group on campus, and I went along to watch. I was recruited to be one of the holders of the down-markers (two pointed brooms with string tied between).  Chico flirted with me all day, but saw me leaving with my "gang" and assumed I was dating one of them (I wasn't). The next day I was in my usual spot/routine in The Student Center, drinking coffee/reading a book/smoking cigarettes (gave up that bad habit when I found out I was pregnant with our daughter Sarah, over 38 years ago).  He came up, introduced himself to me and asked permission to sit down.

I was impressed by his good manners, among other things, and we were "an item" for the remainder of the year.  He graduated with a degree in Latin American Studies and got a job in Ft. Campbell, Kentucky with the Red Cross, counseling servicemen. I stayed to finish my degree and we carried on a long-distance relationship for the remaining two years, writing, calling and visiting when we could.  The April of my senior year, during one of his visits, he asked me to marry him… and we rolled out of bed to call our parents to share the good news.  I graduated in June and we were married the following September.

An aside: During my last two years of school, I worked at a clothing boutique not far from the college.  I would walk there directly after classes, putting in about 30 hours a week and getting a 30% discount.  Chico and I had only been dating a few months when a beautiful dress came into the store.  I knew then I had to have it, whether to be married or buried (whichever came first) in such elegance, and I put it on layaway immediately. It was an off-white muslin with long, crocheted-lace sleeves and an empire bodice (very Guinevere-ish).  The big joke in my family is that, with my discount, I paid $28. When my wedding day was finally announced, my mom tried hard to talk me into something more traditional but I would not be swayed.  I still think it was the perfect dress… 💖

We stayed in our small college town for the next 8 years, moving temporarily to Atlanta en route to Puerto Rico for a company transfer (where we put in 4 1/2 years).  Back to Atlanta for almost three years and then to South Florida, where we've resided for the last 28. 

During the first twenty-five years of our marriage, Chico traveled quite a bit (twice a month, a week or more at a time). I've always been a strong and spirited soul and when the children were younger, we talked about the time he was away, not as better or worse but just different.  I belonged to AAA (although AA seemed more appropriate some days... 😉), I learned to fix small household items, I became responsible for my own entertainment.  When it had to be done, I did it. The worst were his two-week trips, when I didn't want to relax and appreciate having him home the weekend in-between, because it just meant giving him up again.  I learned various coping mechanisms, but I missed him.

Career moves found Chico home more, and the rest of us having to readjust, awkwardly at first, but happily.  He and I have always had separate interests (my music, his soccer), meeting in the middle more often than not for conversation, intimacy and intensity. 

My husband is of Brazilian descent and I am of Italian/Native American heritage... so emotions run high most of the time.  We pendulum between pondering what to name our wished-for houseboat when we retire... to me threatening to run away with the Renaissance Festival each February. 

My husband makes me crazy... and he makes me feel adored.  He is frustrating... and he is flattering. He is honest, even when I don't want to hear it... and I know I can trust his words and his actions (how many people in our lives can we say that about?!?).  He is intuitive, which is sometimes annoying but mostly a blessing. 

I wholeheartedly cherish our ongoing flare-ups, passions, commitment, disconnects, conversations, silences. It has never been easy; it has always been worthwhile.  As Brian Joseph sings in Cal’s Chevy:  “it ain’t easy… but it’s ours.”

I vowed that *happy* and *marriage* didn't have to be mutually exclusive.  My parents divorced after 29 years so I learned early on that one is never safe, and I try not to take it for granted.

Chico and I have made a conscious decision to stay together in this hectic and unsettling world (especially now during the pandemic). I crave and cherish my independence, but I don't worry any more that I'll have to "give in" (reminds me of a Dar Williams' song, In Love But Not at Peace: "I still need the beauty of words sung and spoken and I live with the fear that my spirit will be broken").  We seem to have forged a wonderful agreement where we both manage to get our own way a good bit of the time, but we haven't forgotten the art of the happy medium.

When we got married in 1976, a popular reading to include in weddings was “On Marriage” by Kahlil Gibran.  I loved it at the time, but even more so now.  The concept was, and remains, groundbreaking.  Remember these lines?

“You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. 
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God
But let there be spaces in your togetherness
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.”

I've spent the last few weeks re-evaluating what's kept us going these 4+ decades.  We have had just as many troubles as everyone else, but the risk is the reward, and the leap of faith is the longevity... that, to quote Jackson Browne, we just keep getting up and doing it again... amen...

I have always hated the term soul mate which, in my mind, used to conjure up images of Hallmark movies with couples joined-at-the-hip in that "you-complete-me" kinda way. Ugh. A few years ago, a dear friend (who is also a therapist) offered up her definition of soulmate:  someone who challenges you to be the best person you can be. Chico does that for me and, I'd like to think, I for him. We have "a head and a heart marriage" (a phrase I heard on a TV show recently). It suits us... ♥

When it comes to troubleshooting, I am in constant awe of Chico’s ability to stay calm, to let go and to move forward, in all aspects of his life.  His oft-repeated phrase is "let's not worry about how something got to be a problem; let's just figure out how to fix it". Wow.  With my tendency to finger-point, internalize and dramatize, he sets a wonderful example.

Chico loves me unconditionally, a status I am always trying to achieve but come up short.  I love him no less, but my family history includes strings attached, a very difficult pattern to break.

He is the calm to my storm, the ground to my clouds, the 33 1/3 to my 45, the waltz to my polka, the reason to my emotion, the carousel to my rollercoaster, the string to my kite, the balance to my spinning.  He supports but never suffocates, respects but never expects.

In an anniversary card one year, Chico thanked me for my enduring love and patience with his failings.  I can say the same.

Ups and downs, ins and outs, betters and worses go with the territory.  We've lived to tell about it ("fairy tales and diaper pails" indeed, as Amy Rigby sings).  My marriage has endured for many reasons (one of which is just good old-fashioned luck).  Cheers to the two of us for our perseverance, patience and passion with each other.  Tomorrow is another day!

SONGHarvest Moon / You and Me (both by Neil Young) 

BOOK(S):  
When Captain America Does NOT Save My Day – My Messy Beautiful by Cindy Brandt (actually not a book, but an essay)

Unwind by Glennon Doyle (excerpt from Carry On, Warrior, her first book)

POEM(S):  Ode to Time by Pablo Neruda (translation by Paul Scott Derrick)

Inside of you, your growing
age,
inside of me, my passing
age.
Time is decided,
its bell doesn’t ring,
it slowly flows, advancing
inside of us both.
It’s there,
like a quiet pool
in your eyes
and, beneath their
burnished chestnut,
a splinter, the trace
of a tiny stream,
a dry little star
ascending to your lips.
Time may draw
its threads
through your hair,
but in my heart
you will always bring the fragrance
of the honeysuckle vine,
as vivid as living fire.
How lovely it is
to grow old living
all that we’ve lived.
Every day
was transparent stone,
every night
for us, was a deeply shadowed rose.
And this line on your face, or mine,
are flowers or stone,
the fossil of a lightning-flash.
My eyes have been spent on your loveliness,
but then, you are my eyes.
Maybe I’ve tired your duplicate breasts
with my kisses,
but the world has seen your secret splendor
in my joy.
What do we care, my love,
if time,
who raised like double flames
or parallel stalks
my body and your sweetness,
should guard them tomorrow
or strip them away
and with its invisible fingers
erase this identity that keeps us apart
giving us the victory
of a single final soul beneath the sod.


Upon Request by Anton Korteweg

That I love you, I want to finally
have that written down, now that
you ask. Because I love you and
not just sometimes, given
the four thousand days and nights.
That it seems as if you hardly
have grown older, that
you sometimes gaze into the distance
as if love struck, that
your hands are still beautiful, further
than this I'd rather not go.
That I sometimes look for your cheek
and not your lips.

QUOTE(S):  “That was the strangest thing about weddings, from Amos’s point of view, that they pretended to be sacred occasions but in fact had no meaning. Because a marriage isn’t a marriage until it’s over, he thought, until the couple looked back, years later, at the moment they wed and said, “Oh, that’s what really happened that day.” ~ Haven Kimmel, from the novel The Solace of Leaving Early

"Wasn’t marriage, like life, unstimulating and unprofitable and somewhat empty when *too* well-ordered and protected and guarded. Wasn’t it finer, more splendid, more nourishing when it was, like life itself, a mixture of the sordid and the magnificent; of mud and stars; of earth and flowers; of love and hate and laughter and tears and ugliness and beauty and hurt." ~ Edna Ferber

“Tell the story of your marriage,” my young friend Niki says to me. “Write down how it is you have a happy marriage.” But the story of my marriage, which is the great joy and astonishment of my life, is too much like a fairy tale, the German kind, unsweetened by Disney.” ~ Ann Patchett, from her book of essays, The Story of a Happy Marriage

“People think a soulmate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soulmate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.  A true soulmate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.  A soulmate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life.” ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

You've Got a Friend in Me (Randy Newman, from Toy Story)

As promised on Monday, today is all about Colin's birthday celebration.  Two years old?!?  Wow... and Yep!  Despite the pandemic, Sarah planned a most wonderful day of fun and festivities, which took place this past Sunday (a few days before his actual birthday, July 21).  The theme was TWO Infinity and Beyond, as he is totally into Toy Story these days...  :-)

She had decorated the living room with crepe paper streamers, balloons all over the floor, and a Check-Off list of various activities, which delighted Colin as soon as he woke up!  
She had also arranged a Car Parade of various friends (the Besties, their husbands, and children; Nancy, her husband, and dog Lucy; Sarah's former boss, friend, and another co-worker).  We set up a 10' x 10' canopy in her apartment complex parking lot, where there is a natural round-about (all the way at the end, out of the way of traffic), and Sarah used the gates previously known as The Party Pit to keep Colin "contained" (so very smart!).  
Then began the progression of vehicles (from 10:00 to 10:30 a.m.) decorated with balloons, stickers, and people inside blowing horns, waving, and extending Birthday wishes.  He was enthralled!  
 Sarah made a Spotify playlist of songs with Two in the title (my suggestions were Two of Us by The Beatles, The Power of Two by Indigo Girls, Two Princes by The Spin Doctors, Love Me Two Times by The Doors).  Special Events habits die hard, so of course Sarah passed out goody bags with a Moonpie, a Starcrunch, and a few mini-Milky Ways for each person, gracing the children with juice boxes, and the adults with Sunshine beers... ☀

From set-up to breakdown, we were only there three hours, but I was exhausted afterward.  Two-year-olds are busy people!  I spent the rest of the afternoon/evening remembering this time two years ago when Colin came into the world, and feeling such joy being there to witness.  I was meant to be a Lala... 💖



SONGYou've Got a Friend in Me by Randy Newman, from Toy Story)

BOOK:  
Child of the Universe by Ray Jayawardhana, Raul Colón (Illustrator)

POEM:  On Children by Kahlil Gibran


Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,

so He loves also the bow that is stable.

QUOTE(S):  "
We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children that makes the heart too big for the body." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

"There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings." ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Pretty How Town (Kris Delmorst)

April 1 is most certainly April Fool's Day... but it is also the beginning of National Poetry Month:

Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now held every April, when publishers, booksellers, literary organizations, libraries, schools and poets around the country band together to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of businesses and non-profit organizations participate through readings, festivals, book displays, workshops, and other events.

More here...

P.S. SMM here, here and here...

SONG: Pretty How Town by Kris Delmhorst

BOOK: Poem in Your Pocket: 200 Poems to Read and Carry, edited by Elaine Bleakney

POEM: How to Read a Poem: Beginner's Manual by Pamela Spiro Wagner

First, forget everything you have learned,
that poetry is difficult,
that it cannot be appreciated by the likes of you,
with your high school equivalency diploma,
your steel-tipped boots,
or your white-collar misunderstandings.

Do not assume meanings hidden from you:
the best poems mean what they say and say it.

To read poetry requires only courage
enough to leap from the edge
and trust.

Treat a poem like dirt,
humus rich and heavy from the garden.
Later it will become the fat tomatoes
and golden squash piled high upon your kitchen table.

Poetry demands surrender,
language saying what is true,
doing holy things to the ordinary.

Read just one poem a day.
Someday a book of poems may open in your hands
like a daffodil offering its cup
to the sun.

When you can name five poets
without including Bob Dylan,
when you exceed your quota
and don't even notice,
close this manual.

QUOTE: "Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary." ~ Kahlil Gibran

Monday, February 9, 2009

Keep Me in Your Heart (Warren Zevon)

This morning was the funeral and interment of my friend M's mom Phyllis - I of course needed to be there, for myself as well as for the family. My daughter Sarah met up with me, as did our friend R (who introduced me to M about 14 years ago) - my husband and son both had to work, and my other son is away at college 4 hours away, or else they would have been there too...

There are few things more helpless than witnessing another family's grief - we paid our respects before everything started, and then stayed for a lovely service - the highlight for me was when the minister asked if anyone had anything to say... and K (M's daughter) got up to share. She spoke of her grandmother's love of, and aptitude for, crafts... and asked how many people in the room had in their possession anything Phyllis had made - over 90% raised their hands (heartwarming)... and it made me vow that the Santa she gifted to our family many years ago will hold a prominent place of honor for years to come...

Much love to M - may she be surrounded by the love and support of her family and friends during this most difficult time... and beyond...

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On Star Maker Machine this week, the theme is 1989... although, since Saturday is Valentine's Day, there was a last-ditch possibility of changing it to Hearts... which was quickly squashed - I figured I could issue myself the Hearts challenge here instead... and, in a two-for-the-price-of-one anarchic/conciliatory move at SMM, all my 1989 songs will include Love in the title (ha!)...

P.S. SMM...

SONG: Keep Me in Your Heart by Warren Zevon

BOOK: Feathers Brush My Heart: True Stories of Mothers Connecting with Their Daughters After Death by Sinclair Browning

POEM: A Rescue by John Updike


Today I wrote some words that will see print.
Maybe they will last "forever," in that
someone will read them, their ink making
a light scratch on his mind, or hers.
I think back with greater satisfaction

upon a yellow bird--a goldfinch?--
that had flown into the garden shed
and could not get out,
battering its wings on the deceptive light
of the dusty, warped-shut window.

Without much reflection, for once, I stepped
to where its panicked heart
was making commotion, the flared wings drumming,
and with clumsy soft hands
pinned it against a pane,
held loosely cupped
this agitated essence of the air,
and through the open door released it,
like a self-flung ball,
to all that lovely perishing outdoors.

QUOTE: "Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains." ~ Kahlil Gibran

Monday, July 21, 2008

Beautiful World (Eliza Gilkyson)

I am beyond excited... in that I am leaving for the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival first thing tomorrow morning - last year's preview and review posts pretty much sum it up!

This will be FRFF's 20th anniversary... and my 10th - in addition to dear Dar Williams, artists performing are Janis Ian, Patty Larkin, Tracy Grammer, the above-mentioned Eliza Gilkyson... and so many others. I am delighted that Danny Schmidt has been chosen for the Artist Showcase - there will also be a Dave Carter song circle early Sunday morning... and, despite my probable lack of sleep, I will most definitely be there...



POEM: Not to Sleep by Robert Graves

Not to sleep all the night long, for pure joy,
Counting no sheep and careless of chimes
Welcoming the dawn confabulation
Of birds, her children, who discuss idly
Fanciful details of the promised coming —
Will she be wearing red, or russet, or blue,
Or pure white?—whatever she wears, glorious:
Not to sleep all the night long, for pure joy,
This is given to a few but at last to me,
So that when I laugh and stretch and leap from bed
I shall glide downstairs, my feet brushing the carpet
In courtesy to civilized progression,
Though, did I wish, I could soar through the open window
And perch on a branch above, acceptable ally
Of the birds still alert, grumbling gently together.

QUOTE: "In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, for in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed." ~ Kahlil Gibran

Friday, October 12, 2007

So Quiet in Here/Into the Mystic (Van Morrison)

SONG(S): So Quiet in Here /Into the Mystic by Van Morrison

BOOK: Even in Quiet Places: Poems by William Stafford

POEM: Sonnets to Orpheus, Part Two, XXIX by Rainer Maria Rilke

Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.

QUOTE: "The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?" ~ Kahlil Gibran

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Mercy of the Fallen (Dar Williams)

I saw this poem on Patty's blog a while back and, being a long-time lover of Kahlil Gibran, bookmarked it for future use - synchronistically (which is how my life usually unfolds), I used his On Children piece for a reading in church today (the sermon topic was Helping Teens in Broward's Foster Care System)...



POEM: On Religion by Kahlil Gibran

Have I spoken this day of aught else?
Is not religion all deeds and all reflection,
And that which is neither deed nor reflection,
but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul,
even while the hands hew the stone or tend the loom?
Who can separate his faith from his actions,
or his belief from his occupations?
Who can spread his hours before him, saying,
"This for God and this for myself;
This for my soul, and this other for my body?"
All your hours are wings that beat through space
from self to self.
He who wears his morality but as his best garment
were better naked.
The wind and the sun will tear no holes in his skin.
And he who defines his conduct by ethics
imprisons his song-bird in a cage.
The freest song comes not through bars and wires.
And he to whom worshipping is a window,
to open but also to shut,
has not yet visited the house of his soul whose windows
are from dawn to dawn.
Your daily life is your temple and your religion.
Whenever you enter into it take with you your all.
Take the plough and the forge and the mallet and the lute,
The things you have fashioned in necessity or for delight.
For in revery you cannot rise above your achievements
nor fall lower than your failures.
And take with you all men:
For in adoration you cannot fly higher than their hopes
nor humble yourself lower than their despair.
And if you would know God be not therefore a solver of riddles.
Rather look about you and you shall see Him playing with your children.
And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud,
outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain.
You shall see Him smiling in flowers, then rising and waving
His hands in trees.

QUOTE: "I have a terrible need of — shall I say the word — religion. Then I go out and paint the stars." ~ Vincent Van Gogh