You spend so much of your time
expecting to become someone else
always someone who will be different
someone to whom a moment
whatever moment it may be
at last has come
and who has been met and transformed
into no longer being you
and so has forgotten you
meanwhile in your life you hardly notice
the world around you, lights changing
sirens dying along the buildings
your eyes intent on a sight you do not see yet
not yet there
as long as you
are only yourself
with whom as you recall you were
to be left alone for long
William Stanley Merwin, American poet, To Waiting
Ideas lead to idols
Only wonder leads to knowing
Gregory of Nyssa
Passengers on the cosmic sea
We know not whence nor whither, –
‘Tis happiness enough to be
Complete with wind and weather.
Liberty Hyde Bailey
rather than trying to have special experiences,
is where real freedom lies
Ezra Bayda, At Home in the Muddy Water
Summer was like your house: you know where each thing stood.
Now you must go out into your heart as onto a vast plain. Now
the immense loneliness begins.
The days go numb, the wind sucks the world from your senses like withered leaves.
Through the empty branches the sky remains. It is what you have.
Be earth now, and evensong.
Be the ground lying under that sky.
Be modest now, like a thing ripened until it is real,
so that he who began it all
can feel you when he reaches for you.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Trees at Bolton Abbey, Moone. Co Kildare
Only the hand that erases can write the true thing.