Wednesday, October 14, 2009




And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man:
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects
of all thought,
And rolls through all things.


William Wordsworth

Sunday, October 11, 2009


Gentle eyes that see so much,
paws that have the quiet touch,
Purrs to signal "all is well"
and show more love than words could tell.
Graceful movements touched with pride,
a calming presence by our side
A friendship that takes time to grow
Small wonder why we love them so.

Elsie Tate
10/9/09
Rest In Peace

Tuesday, September 29, 2009



Some Kiss We Want

There is some kiss we want with
our whole lives, the touch of

spirit on the body. Seawater
begs the pearl to break its shell.

And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild darling! At

night, I open the window and ask
the moon to come and press its

face against mine. Breath into
me. Close the language-door and

open the love-window. The moon
won't use the door, only the window.


Rumi

Monday, August 17, 2009



THE HEART IS RIGHT

The Heart is right to cry
Even when the smallest drop of light,
Of love,
Is taken away.

Perhaps you may kick, moan, scream
In a dignified
Silence,

But you are so right
To do so in any fashion

Until God returns
To
You.


Hafiz

Monday, July 27, 2009



All your images of winter
I see against your sky.

I understand the wounds
That have not healed in you.

They exist
Because God and love
Have yet to become real enough

To allow you to forgive
The dream
.

HAFIZ

Thursday, July 23, 2009



WIND THAT TASTES OF BREAD AND SALT

There's no more wine; my bowl is broken;
I am terribly sick, and only Shams can cure me.

Do you know Shams, the prince of seeing,
who lifts the utterly drowned up out of the ocean
and revives them, so that the shore looks like
multiple marriages are going on at once,
easy laughing here, a formal toast,
a procession with music.

Shams is a trumpet note of light
that starts the atoms spinning,
a wind that comes at dawn tasting of bread and salt.

Move to the edge and over. Fly with the wings
he gives, and if you get tired, lie down,
but keep opening inside your soul.

RUMI

Friday, July 17, 2009