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Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.
- Mary Oliver
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| Warsaw Angel - Photography by Marzena Ablewska-lech |
Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.
Galway Kinnell
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| Jacques Henri-Lartigue, Autochrome |
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Kim Mott's "study on three stages from opening flower of the Maple tree"
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| Kim Mott - Idaho artist, poet, steward of the land |
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| Italy Tarot Tour 2012 - The Tree of Life |
"Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth?... When the
morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?" - from the Book of Job
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| In the orchard - Chateau de Charras |
Secondhand gloves will become lovely again
 | ||||
| Meg Colby, 1952 Vintage Glove Fashion |
their memories are what give them the need for other hands
 | |
| Jacques-Henri Lartigue |
And the desolation of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness carved out of such tiny beings...
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| Maire, 5th arr. - Paris |
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| The Love Garden - Cluny, Paris |
...the need for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
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| Montparnasse Cemetery - Paris |
Wait.
Don't go too early.
 |
| Jacques-Henri Lartigue |
 | ||
| Alice Vegrova |
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair. Music of pain.
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| The Piano by Meanie Beanie -Franz Liszt, Hungarian Rhapsody #2 |
Music of looms weaving all our loves again.
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| April 5, 2013 - Mallika & Jacques - Paris, Le Mariage |
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| Mallika Henry - Luxeumbourg Gardens, Paris |
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
 |
| Luxeumbourg Gardens, Paris |
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.
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| Gladys Spencer, Dance Hall Music Star, died 1931, age 34 - City of London Cemetery |
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| Skeleton Flower - Diphylleia grayi |
A poet
A poet is someone
Who can pour Light into a cup
and raise it to nourish your
beautiful parched holy mouth
--Hafiz
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| Izis Bidermanas - Paris - "Happiness and Nothing Else" |
Dedicated to Mallika Henry, 1951 - 2013. She loved wolves & married one: Monsieur Jacques Loup, April 5, 2013
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| Blood Moon, lunar eclipse April 4, 2015 |
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| From Event Chronicle, "Fire Trine, Blood Moon, Gateway to Love" |
