Loving Samsara
Tonight I call to Walt
invoking all that poet’s
spirit toward my own
as he already has
entreated mine. I stop
tonight to bless this dream,
illusion of creation,
unbelievably
variable, instilled
with photosynthesis
and playful respiration.
Breathe the present moment,
greenery and steel,
aware with every conscious
gulp that it’s not real.
~Son Rivers 2008
FRESH POSSIBILITIES
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Today we will look at a seasonal poem by A. E. Housman, taking it verse by
verse. XVI — SPRING MORNING Star and coronal and bellApril underfoot
renews,And ...
2 weeks ago
2 comments:
thanks for sending out your whitman song. reading it made this wonderful sunday morning even better.
i dont know how enlightened whitman was but his leaves of grass was a breath of fresh air in the up to then puritanical repressed american psyche
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