Thursday, June 14, 2012

June 14, 2012

So much bird song this morning after a night full of frog song, it seems this is a noisy time of year with ever creature looking to find someone to share life with.  There is one frog that over and over croaks from the same spot in the back yard and goes on for hours as soon as it's dark and for most of the night.  By morning, the birds begin to sing and the frog goes to sleep, some something is always making some kind of music, and this morning the cicadas will be adding insect chorus to the other songs.

Here is a short poem, one that in this place and time is easy to understand . . .

Everything Lush I Know

I do not know the names of things
but I have lived on figs and grapes
smell of dirt under moon
and moon under threat of rain
everything lush I know
an orchard becoming all orchards
flowers here and here
the earth I have left
every brief home-making
the lot of God blooming into vines
right now then and always

Kimberly Burwick

And here, even in winter, there is . . . lush, so that the green here is the green of every place, especially the places that don't have their own green.  It's the morning that does this, the new perspective, the way seeing in the morning colors the whole day.  Oh, you often can't get back the serenity of the morning view, but something of it carries over, like a secret color that shines from everything.  I think that's why it's almost impossible to write this later in the day, I can never seem to get back to this perspective where the "lot of God" blooms into the day and I can actually notice it.  The morning is like the smell of rain, that taking up of the dust in the haze of moisture just before the downpour, it's the anticipation, and the rain is the actuality.  After the downpour, there is still moisture but you can't get back that smell of anticipation, it's been overwhelmed.  But the experience of every morning is the "right now then and always", something that is a brief home-making created by notice, by the brief cataloging of what is blooming in the "lot of God".

No comments:

Post a Comment