Sunday, May 22, 2011

Dust by Dorianne Laux

This is my newest herb garden with mostly citrus-scented herbs for teas (Lemongrass, Lemon Bee Balm, Lemon Verbena, Lemon Thyme, and Lime Basil).

I've been losing poems right and left lately, daydreaming in the sun while inhaling the scent of my blooming Gardenias and reading, reading, reading. I lost an excellent poem just last night about firsts because I was too lazy to get up and grab my pen before I dozed off... so this poem seemed a perfect fit for today. We're still high and dry, thankfully. xoxo

by Dorianne Laux

Someone spoke to me last night,
told me the truth. Just a few words,
but I recognized it.
I knew I should make myself get up,
write it down, but it was late,
and I was exhausted from working
all day in the garden, moving rocks.
Now, I remember only the flavor---
not like food, sweet or sharp.
More like a fine powder, like dust.
and I wasn’t elated or frightened,
but simply rapt, aware.
That’s how it is sometimes---
God comes to your window,
all bright light and black wings,
and you’re just too tired to open it.


"Traveler, there is no path,
paths are made by walking." ~Antonio Machado


"Those moments before a poem comes, when the heightened awareness comes over you, and you realize a poem is buried there somewhere, you prepare yourself. I run around, you know, kind of skipping around the house, marvelous elation. It's as though I could fly." ~Anne Sexton


"An English poet, Philip Larkin, said that poetry doesn't start with an idea; it starts with a poem... You have to be open to mystery. If you are open to it, mystery will come. If you're not, why should it, actually?" ~Lucille Clifton


"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science." ~Einstein


"If you need to visualize the soul, think of it as a cross between a wolf howl, a photon, and a dribble of dark molasses. But what it really is, as near as I can tell, is a packet of information. It's a program, a piece of hyperspatial software designed explicitly to interface with the Mystery. Not a mystery, mind you, THE Mystery.

The one that can never be solved. Data in our psychic program is often nonlinear, nonhierarchical, archaic, alive, and teeming with paradox. Simply booting up is a challenge, if not for no other reason than that most of us find acknowledging the unknowable and monitoring its intrusions upon the familiar and mundane more than a little embarrassing.

More immediately, by waxing soulful you will have granted yourself the possibility of ecstatic participation in what the ancients considered a divinely animated universe. And on a day to day basis, folks, it doesn't get any better than that."

- Tom Robbins, In Literature/Tom Robbins


ds said...

Marion, I love your citrus garden! Looks, and no doubt smells, heavenly. Perfect poem by Ms. Laux also; everyone has moments where the perfect word/phrase/thought/poem appears & flits away before it can be set to paper.
Mr. Robbins gave me much to think on, too.
Have a great week!

Kelly said...

Your herb garden looks so nice!! You have such a green thumb. :)

Our Gardenias are blooming, too, and smell heavenly! I get a big whiff every time I let the dogs in or out of the back door.

Margaret Pangert said...

The lemon herbal gaden is a delight! What a wonderful idea!
Love the part about recognizing the truth--how often do we let our barriers come down? And the "divinely animated universe of the ancients." Robbins is right: "It doesn't get any better than that." Your poems are sheer pleasure, Marion, and I know they'll come back." xxox

Ben Ditty said...

Oh, my I love teas! Do you sell the ones you grow or just enjoy them yourself?

Serena said...

Love your herb garden, girlie! Beautiful. As is your choice of poem. And thank God you're still high and dry!

Wine and Words said...

Oh I like that poem, but it saddens me. I've done it also. I've shut truth out my the mere act of my laziness. How much farther along would I be had I not. I miss you and your with almost as many cats as books :)

Marion said...

Thanks, all, for your kind comments. I appreciate you all.

Ben, no I don't sell my herbs. I grow them just for me. I had so much Mint in my back yard that once I mowed it all down and everything reeked of Peppermint for weeks. I refer to it as 'aromatherapy mowing'. LOL!

Annie, I have a pregnant cat. I don't know HOW that happened. Sigh. Ray wants to take her to the pound, but I won't let him. I cry every time he mentions it, and that does the trick. LOL! Love you!! xoxo

Wine and Words said...

How indeed???? My My. Tears...a powerful tool in our arsenal! Poor Ray don't stand a chance against the likes of you!

Love you too, My Marion!

Terresa said...

Thank you for Laux's poem, it's one to read and savor. The Clifton & Sexton quotes are like dessert...

I love how you formulate your blog posts, Marion, always with some savory, distilled thoughts to end on, always a delight.

Janelle Goodwin said...

I can smell your herbs from here (or it could be my imagination). I loved today's post about being open to the mystery and inspiration. Hopefully, your poem will knock at the door again. So glad you're safe from the flood!

Phoenix said...

If I could sum up in one sentence my entire life's goal:

"God comes to your window,
all bright light and black wings,
and you’re just too tired to open it."

It's to never be too tired to open the window. I run myself to the point of exhaustion flinging open every single window I can for fear that I will miss out on something amazing. I suppose that's something that the young do, and as I get older I'll start to become wise to which windows should stay open and which ones to just plain walk away from... but while I've got the energy, I'll be damned if I lose any ounce of God on my watch. :)

Much love to you, and I'm glad you're still safe Marion.


erin said...

"simply rapt, aware.
That’s how it is sometimes---
God comes to your window,
all bright light and black wings,
and you’re just too tired to open it." i know this, Marion, and i love it! know and love the state as well. shame on us for being so lazy. but i laugh, it's as easy as though it will come again, these revelations.

and farge, i love tom robbins, "If you need to visualize the soul, think of it as a cross between a wolf howl, a photon, and a dribble of dark molasses." as i was reading this i was thinking, farge, i wish i had written this! mosasses!

your garden is wonderful, Marion. no wonder you didn't rise to write the words. you were living the revelation.

hope you and yours are well. there has been so much tumolt in the States this past spring.

much love

quid said...

Ahh, the loss of poems. I can almost visualize. The garden is beautiful; happy to hear you are thus far safe from rising water.