Post Title. 10/11/2010
Woke up early, took the dogs, a cup of Earl Grey and my Rilke Book of Hours to the backyard and still peaceful morning. I opened the book and read, "there will be a book that includes these pages and she who take it in her hand will sit staring at it a long time, until she feels that she is being held and you are writing." This is the end of poem whose German name escapes me. It goes like this: "Dear darkening ground, you've endured so patiently the walls we've built perhaps you'll give the cities one more hour and grant the churches and cloisters two. And those that labor - maybe you'll let their work grip them another five hours, or seven, before you become forest again, and water, and widening wilderness in that hour of inconceivable terror when you take back your name from all things. Just give me a little more time! I want to love the things as no one has thought to love them, until they're real and ripe and worthy of you. I want only seven days, seven on which no one has ever written himself - seven pages of solitude. there will be a book that includes these pages, and she who take it in her hands will sit staring at it a long time, until she feels that she is being held and you are writing." With too many tears too early in the morning, I connected with my deep love of the world from a place that includes the rough bark of an ancient tree to a hawk that sits atop a light pole as its ancestors once sat atop a craggy promontory to the mysteries of the ocean deep. As I look for my greater purpose, I think it has always been there: to love the Earth enough to save her beyond all reason; as I love those who are close to me; as I choose to be loved. CommentsSharon 11/08/2010 7:16am
Reading this message today fills my heart with sheer joy. The notion that the Earth is enough and if we learn to love her and treat her with respect, we may learn to love ourselves and each other the same way. 03/26/2011 9:01am
I followed your link at my Giraffe Journal blog back here and have spent time looking around at your lovely website ... eventually reading your blog posts. Like you, I'll be participating in Earth Hour tonight as I've done for the past few years. Reading about your morning practice of reflection reminds me of my own and makes me wonder if we're sisters separated at birth. I'm so happy to have encountered you in this 'virtual' world and appreciate the kinship we share. Leave a Reply |
