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The Hour of Feeling
Love, now a universal birth,
From heart to heart is stealing,
From earth to man, from man to earth:
--It is the hour of feeling.
From heart to heart is stealing,
From earth to man, from man to earth:
--It is the hour of feeling.
Wordsworth, To My Sister
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| Cumbria, Lakes District, July 2015 - David Whyte Poetry Tour - www.davidwhyte.com |
Between here and here
Between hidden points in the soul
Between saying and said
Beyond what we had one's self done.
*Carolyn Forche, The Blue Hour, On Earth
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| Wordsworth and his sister, Dorothy, at Lancrigg |
Dorothy and Wordsworth's wife Mary would copy poems into Wordsworth journals, and when Mary was testing a new pen nib, she would write "amen" over and over in the margins.
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| Foxgloves & Slate, Coniston - "Tis my faith that every flower enjoys the air it breathes! - W.W. |
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| Cows on the way to Grasmere - July 2015 |
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| They said: "yes you do look fat." |
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| YEP |
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| I have no opinion, whatever the others' said... |
It became what it was because of us, in that
sense loved.
It was the name of a time over there, a place
It was the simplest way to know one another,
It is as if space were touching itself
through us.
It is more ominous than any oblivion to see
the world as it is.
- Blue Hour, On Earth - C. Forché
PILGRIMS: PROPHECY, PRESENCE, PORTAL
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| Walking into each other's lives... |
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| Moley, our Irish ballast & Gaelic songbird |
Vows taken & not taken. Testaments of loneliness. Friendship. Forgiveness.
Anchored to each other, we reached for the sky.
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| Van |
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| Callie, Gary & Kevin |
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| Moley & Ian Singing Gaelic Hymns in the Mist |
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| David Whyte & Edward Wates |
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| David & Kate (photo Gary Larsen) |
What sees us without being seen?
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| Castlerigg - Stone Circle, Keswick |
Strange fits of passion I have known - Wm. Wordsworth
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| Standing Stones with Jules |
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| Arlene at Lancrigg |
Falling towards the center of longing - futures foretold - cards read for the Pilgrims.
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| The Mouth of Truth (Italy Tarot Tour 2012) |
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| Lenormand Revolution - Carrie Paris/Roz Foster |
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| Lakes District - (Photo Erin Stuckey) |
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| View from window - Bank Ground Farm |
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| Bank Ground Farm - Dusk |
Sometimes the truth depends upon a walk around the lake. - Wallace Stevens
Sadness the blue like dusk, the reminder that all things are ephemeral, and that because there is time, there is change and that another name for change, if you look back toward what is vanishing in the distance, is loss.
Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby
FINISTERRE
The road in the end taking the path the sun had taken,
into the western sea, and the moon rising behind you
as you stood where ground turned to ocean: no way
to your future now but the way your shadow could take,
walking before you across water, going where shadows go,
no way to make sense of a world that wouldn’t let you pass
except to call an end to the way you had come,
to take out each frayed letter you had brought
and light their illumined corners; and to read
them as they drifted on the late western light;
to empty your bags; to sort this and to leave that;
to promise what you needed to promise all along,
and to abandon the shoes that brought you here
right at the water’s edge, not because you had given up
but because now, you would find a different way to tread,
and because, through it all, part of you would still walk on,
no matter how, over the waves.
into the western sea, and the moon rising behind you
as you stood where ground turned to ocean: no way
to your future now but the way your shadow could take,
walking before you across water, going where shadows go,
no way to make sense of a world that wouldn’t let you pass
except to call an end to the way you had come,
to take out each frayed letter you had brought
and light their illumined corners; and to read
them as they drifted on the late western light;
to empty your bags; to sort this and to leave that;
to promise what you needed to promise all along,
and to abandon the shoes that brought you here
right at the water’s edge, not because you had given up
but because now, you would find a different way to tread,
and because, through it all, part of you would still walk on,
no matter how, over the waves.
…
Finisterre.
From PILGRIM : Poems by David Whyte
Many Rivers Press © 2012 David Whyte
From PILGRIM : Poems by David Whyte
Many Rivers Press © 2012 David Whyte
Go Gently - It takes a long time before one learns to take one's place in one's own life.
John O' Donohue
“Every work cancels the dark. Every work is a hymn from the other side
of memory to a memory that is spellbound. Beauty is death's gift to
vulgar life so that it can live in beauty.”
| Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions, Volume I |
To begin, begin.
William Wordsworth
CAPC - Bordeaux Contemporary Museum
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| Alejandro Jodorowsky Retrospective - September 2015 |
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| AMEN |
