Art More Real than “Me”
When poet Jorie Graham was three-years-old, she swirled her fingers through her mother’s still-wet oil painting. Her horrified mother picked …
When poet Jorie Graham was three-years-old, she swirled her fingers through her mother’s still-wet oil painting. Her horrified mother picked …
A Song on the End of the WorldBy Czeslaw Milosz On the day the world endsA bee circles a clover,A …
He passed his fingertips over her skin almost without touching her, and experienced for the first time the miracle of …
I’ve been reading (again) Jane Hirshfield’s Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry, a collection of essays on the art …
And yet we know it’s all just one continuous unfolding as one day or year slips seamlessly into the next. …
This phrase from my poem Brimless Being is becoming a mantra I turn to often these days. It’s about the …
Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and the pain of …
Primary Wonder, by Denise Levertov Days pass when I forget the mystery.Problems insoluble and problems offeringtheir own ignored solutionsjostle for …
I’ve been in a romantic mood lately. Both in the sensual and spiritual sense. This lust for life. This sense …
“There are burning bushes everywhere, burning yet not consumed, and our lives can be just as miraculous. Our Making can …