Beautiful summer mornings here these last few days…
But this morning, a kind day has descended, from nowhere,
and making coffee in the usual way, measuring grounds
with the wooden spoon, I remembered,
this is how things happen, cup by cup, familiar gesture
after gesture, what else can we know of safety
or of fruitfulness?
Marie Howe, From Nowhere
To see the Way with your own eyes,
quit agreeing and disagreeing.
This battle between likes and dislikes – that’s the primal disease of the mind.
Seng–ts’an, 529 – 606, Inscription on Faith in Mind
Re-examine all you have been told
at school or church or in any book;
Dismiss whatever insults your own soul;
And your very flesh shall be a great poem,
and have the richest fluency, not only in its words,
But in the silent lines of its lips and face,
And between the lashes of your eyes,
and in every motion and joint of your body.
Walt Whitman, Preface to Leaves of Grass, 1855 edition
Looking down into my father’s
dead face
for the last time
my mother said without
tears, without smiles
without regrets
but with civility
“Good night, Willie Lee, I’ll see you
in the morning.”
And it was then I knew that the healing
of all our wounds
is forgiveness
that permits a promise
of our return
at the end.
Alice Walker, Collected Poems
