New South

In-North-Carolina ask -- archive

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[mysteriesmanners]

Winston-Salem, NC, 2016

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A Blessing for Wedding | Jane Hirshfield

Today when persimmons ripen Today when fox-kits come out of their den into snow Today when the spotted egg releases its wren song Today when the maple sets down its red leaves Today when windows keep their promise to open Today when fire keeps its promise to warm Today when someone you love has died    or someone you never met has died Today when someone you love has been born    or someone you will not meet has been born Today when rain leaps to the waiting of roots in their dryness Today when starlight bends to the roofs of the hungry and tired Today when someone sits long inside his last sorrow Today when someone steps into the heat of her first embrace Today, let this light bless you With these friends let it bless you With snow-scent and lavender bless you Let the vow of this day keep itself wildly and wholly Spoken and silent, surprise you inside your ears Sleeping and waking, unfold itself inside your eyes Let its fierceness and tenderness hold you Let its vastness be undisguised in all your days

[girlsluvbeyonce]

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me and mysteriesmanners

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"The Homeplace" Lenard D. Moore

When I walk the path this morning there is only a slight light in the thinned woods. I come upon a creek near a tin-roofed house; and there's no one anywhere to witness my presence. Meanwhile the wind rises through the branches— but soon reaches groundfall. A faint smell of honeysuckle sustains itself on the air while quail rove the slope-weeds. My eyes will not let go. Now I think of my great-grandfather who one time walked these woods through daylight. This is the country he knew since boyhood. And I am grateful for this homeplace— here, I, too, wish to grow old and stand without words in this part of the world so lively and pure. I can hear a dog barking somewhere in the far distance— here where the voices of former life do not speak, their spirits huddling into themselves, a brotherhood of saints. We are this fresh green world which cradles everything into itself.

[mysteriesmanners]

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it's me

[southernhi-life]

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"Let there be new flowering" Lucille Clifton

let there be new flowering in the fields let the fields turn mellow for the men let the men keep tender through the time let the time be wrested from the war let the war be won let love be at the end

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elevate by demandaj on Flickr.

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[mysteriesmanners]

Holly Hill, SC

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Holy Heel

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Burlington, NC

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This is a portrait my great-grandmother painted of my grandfather as a youngin'.

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A.R. Ammons: I have images of him lying in his cradle covered with a veil, and I saw his coffin being made, and I watched as he was taken away, his coffin astraddle the open rumble seat of a Model A. I see my mother leaning against the porch between the huge blue hydrangeas as she wept and prayed. The most powerful image of my emotional life is something I had repressed and one of my sisters lately reminded me of. It was when my little brother, who was two and a half years younger than I, died at eighteen months. My mother some days later found his footprint in the yard and tried to build something over it to keep the wind from blowing it away. That’s the most powerful image I’ve ever known.

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The Tree of Life - Terrence Malick - 2011

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