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Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.

Khalil Gibran, “Sand and Foam”

by Yehuda Amichai

From the scroll of Esther, I filtered out the sediment Of coarse joy, and from the book of Jeremiah The wailing of pain in your guts. And from The Song of Songs, the endless search Of love, and from Genesis The dreams and Cain, and from Ecclesiastes The despair, and from the Book of Job, Job. And from the leftovers, I pasted together a new Bible for myself. I live censored, pasted, limited, in peace.

One woman asked me yesterday in a dark Street about the health of another woman Who died before her time, or anybody's time. In great weariness I answered: She's fine, she's fine.

#the reality of the word #thank you professor linafelt #intro to bib lit #poe(tree)

love is more thicker than forget

love is more thicker than forget more thinner than recall more seldom than a wave is wet more frequent than to fail

it is most mad and moonly and less it shall unbe than all the sea which only is deeper than the sea

love is less always than to win less never than alive less bigger than the least begin less littler than forgive

it is most sane and sunly and more it cannot die than all the sky which only is higher than the sky

#love is more thicker than forget #e.e. cummings #poe(tree)#it is most sane and sunly #and more it cannot die than all the sky which only is higher than the sky

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

#the last poem #thanks Mr. Kling #desiderata #max ehrmann #poe(tree)

My Son the Man

Suddenly his shoulders get a lot wider the way Houdini would expand his body while people were putting him in chains. It seems no time since I would help him put on his sleeper, guide his calves into the gold interior, zip him up and toss him up and catch his weight. I cannot imagine him no longer a child, and I know I must get ready, get over my fear of men now my son is going to be one. This was not what I had in mind when he pressed up through me like a sealed trunk through the ice of the Hudson, snapped the padlock, unsnaked the chains, and appeared in my arms. Now he looks at me the way Houdini studied a box to learn the way out, he smiled and let himself be manacled.

#mother's day #my son the man #sharon olds #poe(tree)

Don't Hesitate

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don't hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that's often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don't be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

#prose poetry #crumbs again #don't hesitate #mary oliver #poe(tree)

by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest sea - Yet, never, in Extremity It asked a crumb - of Me.

#emily dickinson #poe(tree)

If you were coming in the Fall

If you were coming in the Fall, I'd brush the Summer by With half a smile and half a spurn, As Housewives do, a Fly.

If I could see you in a year, I'd wind the months in balls - And put them each in separate Drawers, For fear the numbers fuse -

If only Centuries delayed, I'd count them on my Hand, Subtracting, till my fingers dropped Into Van Diemen's Land,

If certain, when this life was out - That yours and mine, should be I'd toss it yonder, like a Kind, And take Eternity -

But, now, all ignorant of the length, Of this, that is between, It goads me, like the Goblin Bee - That will not state - its sting.

#if you were coming in the fall #emily dickinson #poe(tree)