Saturday, February 14, 2009

You breathed infinity into my world

Two beautiful glimpses into the complexity of a favorite subject in honor of this Day of Love.

Wishing you a happy St. Valentine's Day.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

- Pablo Neruda

But oh, now... my world is at your feet.
I was lost and I was found, but I was alive and now I've drowned.
So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song
So they can tell me I was wrong.

- Missy Higgins "They Weren't There" (The Sound of White)

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Like ripples on a blank shore

A man who keeps a diary, pays
Due toll to many tedious days;
But life becomes eventful--then
His busy hand forgets the pen.
Most books, indeed, are records less
Of fulness than of emptiness.

- William Allingham

This certainly holds for me re: this blog... and every other bit of writing I could be working on instead of dealing with the ins and outs of this life. :)

I'm still mourning the loss of so many beloved trees due to our recent ice storm. I find this video oddly fitting. The song is possibly my very favorite of 2008; the band is in my all-time top 10.

I had a busier, wilder week than usual, which ended with a distressing yesterday. Today I'm spending a quiet day by myself (intentionally), walking around my city with my camera and iPod, both of which are choke-full of new gorgeousness. Tonight after my workout, I'll curl up with my book while dinner simmers on the stove. Then I think I'll light a candle and remember and ponder and plan.

I'm craving pickles and peanut butter on toast. Strange.