Poetry

Unsere Sprache ist entweder mechanisch, atomistisch, oder dynamisch. Die echt poetische Sprache soll aber organisch, lebendig sein. Wie oft fühlt man die Armut an Worten, um mehre Ideen mit Einem Schlage zu treffen.                                                                 

Our language is either mechanical, atomistic, or dynamic. But truly poetic language should be organic, alive. How often does one feel the poverty of a words’ ability to express several ideas at once.

                                                                                              --Novalis, Blütenstaub

 

Here lies the difference between nature and everyday language. Nature is all simultaneity. But everyday language uses lists, plots, beginnings and endings. Poetry must express itself in the manner of nature, implying the interconnectedness of all things, all stories, the visible and the invisible. Things are often metaphors for other things, ideas often metaphors for other ideas, the visible for the invisible, but the connection may not be obvious until it is revealed by poetic language, which (as in the Song of Songs, for example) can even express the transcendent.

Día de la Virgen de Guadalupe, 2022

 

Sí, ustedes saldrán gozosamente

y serán conducidos en paz;

al paso de ustedes, las montañas y las colinas prorrumpirán en gritos de alegría,

y aplaudirán todos los árboles del campo.

En lugar de zarzas brotarán cipreses,

y mirtos en lugar de ortigas:

esto dará al Señor un gran renombre,

será una señal eterna, que no se borrará.

                              -- Isaías 55:12-13

  

Yes, in joy you shall go forth,

in peace you shall be brought home;

mountains and hills shall break out in song before you,

all trees of the field shall clap their hands.

In place of the thornbush, the cypress shall grow,

instead of nettles, the myrtle.

This shall be to the Lord’s renown,

as an everlasting sign that shall not fail.  

                            --Isaiah 55:12-13

In Time and Eternity

 

From the gospel of the most sublime of the evangelists: “Now this is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ.” These are words for both time and eternity, and embody a life, developing and unfolding, that exists, even with all our troubles and failings, in joy. I would be blind or a liar to deny my experience of this life, because to “know” God, to “know” Jesus, means to be filled with love. And more than that, it means experiencing eternity even within the confines of time.

In his book The World’s Living Religions, the philosopher Archie Bahm (who was a friend of my father) wrote, “Jesus’ message was simple, practical, workable for those willing to give it a fair trial, and unsurpassed in profundity of insight into human nature and its problems of how to overcome unhappiness. Yet, since desire, greed, pride, and fear tend to dominate, and often succeed in dominating, human nature, we often remain blind to the nature and power of love.”

I certainly know desire, greed, pride, and fear, but I also know the power of love. When, in Jesus, God takes on our nature and joins time with eternity, love of neighbor and love of God also become joined as never before, giving us, to quote the evangelist again, the “power to become children of God,” both in this life and eternal life.

Feast of St. Hildegard of Bingen

The hosts of angels praise the good works of humanity and, because of those works, not for one hour, nor for one moment, do they cease from their praise; it sounds forth unceasingly. Now God wants the praise of the angels so that their glory will increase. To him this is pleasing, and in their praise, he wants the angels to make clear and manifest the works of the saints, for the human race is made in the image and likeness of God, and so he wants the angels to praise the works of men and women in his presence. But because the human race is supported by the help of God alone, in the same way also God wishes to be praised by humans and angels together so that their glory may be magnified.

                                                                                                  --St. Hildegard of Bingen

Two stories

I just want to mention that I have had two stories published recently in wonderful literary magazines with exceptional editorial teams, here and here. I am so pleased to actually see these stories appear on-line (and, in the case of MASKS Literary Magazine, in print as well), and not only because they are in such great venues. These stories are also part of a series of stories that I have written about our neighborhood--its people, places, and mysteries. I love sharing the world of our neighborhood, and I hope you enjoy them as well.

A quote from Georges Bernanos

 A nous entendre on croirait trop souvent que nous prêchons le Dieu des spiritualistes, l’Être suprême, je ne sais quoi, rien qui ressemble, en tout cas, à ce Seigneur que nous avons appris à connaître comme un merveilleux ami vivant, qui souffre de nos peines, s’émeut de nos joies, partagera notre agonie, nous recevra dans ses bras, sur son cœur.

To hear us, one would too often think that we are preaching the God of the spiritualists, the supreme Being, I don't know what, nothing resembling, in any case, this Lord whom we have come to know as a marvelous and living friend, who suffers our sorrows, is moved by our joys, will share our agony, and finally, receive us into his arms, on his heart.

                                                                                   --Georges Bernanos, Journal d'un curé de campagne

Achemon Sphinx Moth

I accidently disturbed this beautiful achemon sphinx moth (Eumorpha achemon) who was sitting under a trumpet vine.  I've seen other large sphinx moths sitting under this same enormous vine, presumably waiting for nightfall, so I'm thinking that they must drink the trumpet vine's flower nectar as food during their nocturnal activity.  After I disturbed the moth, he went and sat under a cluster of sunflowers, where I was able to get a photograph of him even though it was cloudy, breezy, and there was a sprinkle of rain.  He was dry and comfortable under the sunflowers, and not in the least concerned about me.  (My wife, Libby, commented that he looked a lot like a dried leaf where he was sitting.)  The caterpillars of these moths are fond of Virginia creeper and other members of the grape family.  Fortunately, birds have brought Virginia creeper seeds into our back yard from a stand on a neighbor's fence, and it is now thriving under the pomegranates (and occasionally on them) thanks to last year's heavy summer rains, which helped it get established in a number of spots.  There is now plenty of Virginia creeper for the next generation of achemon sphinx moths, as well as other moths whose larvae use it as food.

World Bee Day 2022

 

Whether they belong to more evolved species like humans or to simpler ones such as animals, all beings primarily seek peace, comfort, and security. Life is as dear to the mute animal as it is to any human being; even the simplest insect strives for protection from dangers that threaten its life.  

                                                                                   --His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet

St. Francis of Paola

 

Put aside your hatred and animosity. Take pains to refrain from sharp words. If they escape your lips, do not be ashamed to let your lips produce the remedy, since they have caused the wounds. Pardon one another so that later on you will not remember the injury. The recollection of an injury is itself wrong. It adds to our anger, nurtures our sin, and hates what is good. It is a rusty arrow and poison for the soul. It puts all virtue to flight. It is like a worm in the mind: it confuses our speech and tears to shreds our petitions to God. It is foreign to charity: it remains planted in the soul like a nail. It is wickedness that never sleeps, sin that never fails. It is indeed a daily death.

                                                                                                --St. Francis of Paola

Today is the feast day of St. Francis of Paola, a Franciscan hermit of the fifteenth century.  He founded a community of hermit mendicants that eventually became the Minimi (the least ones).  And, in addition to establishing rules for friars and nuns, he created a “third order” for lay people.  Though he was a hermit, he was eventually drawn into a more active life, preaching and ministering to people of all social classes, defending the poor and oppressed, and making peace between kingdoms.  He was renowned for his humility and the austerity of his life, as well as his kindness and charity, which extended even to animals.  There are tales of his performing miracles on behalf of his animal friends, including a fish!  He was a strict vegan, as were all his fellow hermits.  They kept a year-round Lenten fast, abstaining not only from meat but all animal products including milk, eggs, and cheese.  Despite this, and the extreme austerity of his life (or perhaps because of it), he lived to be ninety-one-years-old.

The Snails

 Einst gingen zwei Jünglinge spazieren und fanden im Fahrweg einige Schnecken, die sie, besorgt, daß sie von einem Fuhrwagen zerdrückt werden möchten, in den Busch dabei warfen. »Ihr Mutwilligen«, riefen die Schnecken, »warum stört ihr uns aus unsrer friedlichen Ruhe und werft uns so mutwillig hierher.«

     Menschenbrüder, mit wem hadert ihr, wenn euch ein kleines Ungemach geschieht? Mit einem Allweisen? O! ihr Kurzsichtigen!

 

On one occasion, two youths went for a walk and found some snails on the roadway, which they threw into the bush, afraid they might be crushed by a wagon. "You mischievous ones," cried the snails, "why are you disturbing our peace and wantonly throwing us about?"

     Brothers and sisters, with whom do you quarrel when a little trouble befalls you? With an All-Wise? Oh, you short-sighted ones!

                                                                                    --Novalis, “Die Schnecken”

 

Because we are truly children of God, we want to understand all things.  But because we are obstinate children, we are not willing to be taught.  To perceive is to know how little we know.  Instead of waiting for the story to unfold, we demand the climax on the first page.  And when the train is traveling to strange and harsh and mysterious lands, we insist on getting off at the nearest stop.