Rest Your Soul so Quietly

I still have no words of my own to fill this space.

For now I ask that Laura Munson's Haven* meet my yearlong silence with her touching entry Stop the Clocks.


How do I know that the dead do not wonder why they ever longed for life? - Zhuangzi

*formerly These Here Hills

So I Let Go Now...

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I thought I should follow the lead of many wonderful fellow bloggers and give thanks.

In the face of this year which, to be honest, has not been one of my favorites, I am thankful for love.

I am not only thankful for the love that I have been given, but for the love that I have witnessed and for the love that has been taken away.

I am thankful for the serenity in my home and the always honest and thoughtful criticality, humor and humanity of those who share it.

I am thankful for all of the year's circumstances that have served to remind me of who I am and who I want to be.

I am thankful for losses perhaps more than I am thankful for accomplishments. Dispossession continues to remind me of the importance hope.

Above all else, hope is the one thing for which I give the deepest thanks.

For My Heart's a Boat in Tow

The Kid is pretty amazing... evidenced in this rendering of the human heart which he placed amongst my study materials as an illustrative reference. Check it out.

Happy Birthday, Erin J.

Song to the Siren

Now from his breast into his eyes the ache of longing mounted, and he wept at last, his dear wife, clear and faithful, in his arms, longed for as the sun warmed earth is longed for by a swimmer spent in rough water where his ship went down under Poseidon's blows, gale winds and tons of sea. Few men can keep alive through a big surf to crawl, clotted with brine, on kindly beaches in joy, in joy, knowing the abyss behind: and so she too rejoiced, her gaze upon her husband, her white arms round him pressed as though forever.

- Homer, The Odyssey

So Sorry, My Sister

...but now I see
I had her before me always,
like a shield. I look at her wrinkles, her clenched
jaws, her frown-lines - I see they are
the dents on my shield, the blows that did not reach me.
She protected me, not as a mother
protects a child, with love, but as a
hostage protects the one who makes her
escape as I made my escape, with my sister's
body held in front of me.

From The Elder Sister, Sharon Olds
For you, in loving memory of
S.B.M. 09/08/1972 - 07/22/2009

Per Sempre

Without impatience I'll dream.
I'll bend to the task
That can never end,
And little by little at the tips
Of reborn arms
Succoring hands will reopen,
The eyes reappeared
In their sockets will give light again
And suddenly in tact,
You'll have resurrected, your voice
Will be my guide again,
I'm seeing you again forever.

~Giuseppe Ungaretti