I love stories and memory-keeping and beauty and truth found in people and places and moments.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
We found "The Very Hungry Caterpillar"
He was eating through one of our tomatoes in the garden...so we let him have it. It's been about 3 days, and he's almost finished it. I don't think I've ever seen such a huge caterpillar...he's larger than any of my fingers.
Maya named him...or her..."Maya, a 'gayl'. Cuz I love Maya. I love my name."
Monday, August 03, 2009
'Your eyes smile peace.'
Sonnet XIX - Silent Noon
Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace.
The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.
Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.
Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky:—
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above,
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
musical setting by Ralph Vaughan Williams
I wish I could write more here. But I'm trying to type a critical analysis of this beautiful sonnet/art song.
Tonight, our 'nest' is not quite so romantic. But still, this 'hour is dropt to us from above.' And I guess, in a way, we're enjoying our 'two-fold silent song of love.'
Happy seventh anniversary, baby.
I love you.
Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace.
The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.
Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.
Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky:—
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above,
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
musical setting by Ralph Vaughan Williams
I wish I could write more here. But I'm trying to type a critical analysis of this beautiful sonnet/art song.
Tonight, our 'nest' is not quite so romantic. But still, this 'hour is dropt to us from above.' And I guess, in a way, we're enjoying our 'two-fold silent song of love.'
Happy seventh anniversary, baby.
I love you.
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