Dragonflies swarm me every time I go outside lately, fighting each other to have their picture taken. This green one posed the longest, so he won. I share a couple of poems I love below.
Peace, Blessings, Love and Poetry to You All----Marion, fighting the blues.....
Excerpt From: "Morning"
by Federico Garcia Lorca
"...The morning is bright
Smoke rises from hearths
and lifts the fog in its arms.
Listen to the ballads
water sings under the poplars:
they are wingless birds
lost in the grass!
Trees that sing
dry out and fall;
tranquil mountains
age into plains.
But the song of water
is a thing eternal.
It is light made song
of romantic illusions
It is soft yet firm,
full of sky and gentle.
It is mist and rose
of eternal morning.
Moon-honey that flows
from buried stars....."
^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>
You Know Who You Are
By Naomi Shihab Nye
Why do your poems comfort me, I ask myself.
Because they are upright, like straight-backed chairs.
I can sit in them and study the world as if it too
were simple and upright.
Because sometimes I live in a hurricane of words
and not one of them can save me.
Your poems come in like a raft, logs tied together,
they float.
I want to tell you about the afternoon
I floated on your poems
all the way from Durango Street to Broadway.
Fathers were paddling on the river with their small sons.
Three Mexican boys chased each other outside the library.
Everyone seemed to have some task, some occupation,
while I wandered uselessly in the streets I claim to love.
Suddenly I felt the precise body of your poems beneath me,
like a raft, I felt words as something portable again,
a cup, a newspaper, a pin.
Everything happening had a light around it,
not the light of Catholic miracles,
the blunt light of a Saturday afternoon.
Light in a world that rushes forward with us or without us.
I wanted to stop and gather up the blocks behind me
in this light, but it doesn't work.
You keep walking, lifting one foot, then the other,
saying, "This is what I need to remember"
and then hoping you can.
10 comments:
I love that there are poets that are published and who don't have form sticking up their butts, but rather let it flow. It speaks to me so. Thank you for that last one especially.
My kids were lucky enough last spring to come across an amiable dragonfly. It rode their hands and kept them company. I suspect it was somehow damaged but really it was a gift. A whole afternoon with a dragonfly. Who could imagine?
WIAW, dragonflies are the most friendly of insects. If one is calm around them, they tend to hang around and play or just keep you company. I have memories all the way back to when I was about 5 years old chasing them and having them lite on my fingers. I guess the dragonfly is my totem......
I loved that second poem best, too. I was thinking of you and Saraha when I read it. It lightened my heart...which is no small thing these days. Thanks for stopping by.
I think Nye was saying it's the ordinary things that carry us through, connect us: Lorca has taken a flight of fancy which I hope will not disappoint.
Do you journal, Marion? It sometimes gives me clarity, answers.
*dance* You are back and 'puter unhospitalized!Hugz
I remember doing 'Yerma' at University and fell in love a little bit, with this chap Fred; but Naomi Shihab Nye's words equally beautifully.
Thanks, you.
Margaret, I agree with you about Nye. She makes the ordinary magic, doesn't she?
Saraha, thanks for the hugz! Oh, I'm head over heels for Lorca ever since I discovered him. That sexy, smokin' Spaniard always stirs my heart. I pick up his heavy "Collected Poems" often when I'm in need of recalling the fire of passion. Sigh. Hugz back at you all!
I like the second poem best.
I can't see a dragonfly anymore that I don't think of you, Marion. I tried to take a picture of one when we were fishing a few weeks ago, but just couldn't zoom in on it well enough (it was up on a dead branch and looked really neat). I have many memories of floating in a swimming pool and having dragonflies land on my toes. Also those "doubles" that I thought were so funny as a kid....
I love the picture of you on the bike.
We have dragonflies in the back and yesterday I was telling my son about you and the love of dragonflies and the tattoes and then I just laughed because he looked at me like 'what are you talking about.'
har har
Good joke the on the 'you are a saint'.
Love Renee
Thanks, Renee. Oh, yeah, our kids know we have feet of clay! LOL! It's only our friends who can fully appreciate our hearts. Tell your son I'm your imaginary friend. That'll really make him even more preplexed!!!
Ah, Naomi, is a dear friend. How much do I love her! Thanks for posting this.
Judith, you are so fortunate to have such a fantabulous poet for a friend!!! Be sure to tell her how very, very much her poetry means to us lowly, struggling poets/poetry-lovers. She's a sparkling diamond in a world of dull cubic zirconiams. LOL! You catch my drift!!
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