Sunday, March 09, 2008

Sunset Bird

Robert Frost - Looking For a Sunset Bird in Winter

The west was getting out of gold,
The breath of air had died of cold,
When shoeing home across the white,
I thought I saw a bird alight.

In summer when I passed the place
I had to stop and lift my face;
A bird with an angelic gift
Was singing in it sweet and swift.

No bird was singing in it now.
A single leaf was on a bough,
And that was all there was to see
In going twice around the tree.

From my advantage on a hill
I judged that such a crystal chill
Was only adding frost to snow
As gilt to gold that wouldn't show.

A brush had left a crooked stroke
Of what was either cloud or smoke
From north to south across the blue;
A piercing little star was through.

Monday, March 03, 2008

Blue Green Jewel

Oh Great Mother,
you who sustains us with all that we need
to experience that which we call life, yet whom
we take for granted.

Oh Great Earth,
you who holds us safe within your belly, far
removed from the empty vacuum of space fields,
Yet whom we take for granted.

Oh Great Planetary Being,
you whom we pretend not to hear, nor feel,
who offers us shelter, life sustaining air and water and food,
who is always right beside us.
Yet whom we take for granted each moment of every day.

Hold us always in your compassionate motherly embrace until
we rise up and awaken from our dream of separateness.