Topic: Verses for the Black-Winged and Ordinary

[nichi]

The God of Dirt

The god of dirt
came up to me many times and said
so many wise and delectable things, I lay
on the grass listening
to his dog voice,
crow voice,
frog voice; now,
he said, and now,

and never once mentioned forever

~ Mary Oliver ~

[nichi]

"...And you," I replied, "are you free from all defilement?"  He laughed noisily.
"He who tries to get out only sinks in deeper. I roll in it like a pig. I digest it and turn it into golden dust, into a brook of pure water. To fashion stars out of dog dung, that is the Great Work!..."

With Mystics And Magicians In Tibet
by A. David-Neel

Thank-you, Juhani!

[nichi]

Mindful

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

~ Mary Oliver ~

(Why I Wake Early, 2004)

[erik]

"...And you," I replied, "are you free from all defilement?"  He laughed noisily.
"He who tries to get out only sinks in deeper. I roll in it like a pig. I digest it and turn it into golden dust, into a brook of pure water. To fashion stars out of dog dung, that is the Great Work!..."

With Mystics And Magicians In Tibet
by A. David-Neel

Thank-you, Juhani!

  Greatest work it is... 'For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so?' (Sermon of the Mount)

One Buddhist monk I know used to walk in the neighbourhood of the Buddhist centre every morning and greet everyone he met and ask how they were doing.

[nichi]

The Rain King
(Lyrics)


When I think of heaven
Deliver me in a black-winged bird
I think of flying
Down into a sea of pens and feathers
And all other instruments of faith and sex and God
In the belly of a black-winged bird.

Don't try to feed me
I've been here before
And I deserve a little more

I belong in the service of the Queen
I belong anywhere but in between
She's been crying and I've been thinking
And I am the Rain King

I said mama, mama, mama, why am I so alone
I can't go outside
I'm scared I might not make it home
I'm alive, I'm alive
But I'm sinking in
If there's anyone at home at your place, darling
Why don't you invite me in?

Don't try to bleed me
I've been there before
And I deserve a little more

I belong in the service of the Queen
I belong anywhere but in between
She's been lying and I've been sinking
And I am the Rain King

Hey, I only want the same as anyone
Henderson is waiting for the sun
Oh, it seems night endlessly begins and ends
After all the dreaming I come home again

When I think of heaven
Deliver me in a black-winged bird
I think of dying
Lay me down in a field of flame and heather
Render up my body into the burning heart of God
In the belly of a black-winged bird

Don't try to bleed me
I've been here before
And I deserve a little more

I belong in the service of the queen
I belong anywhere but in between
She's been dying and I've been drinking
And I am the Rain King

Counting Crows



I can't test it out on my mother's pc, as her programs for these things have been eliminated, but it looks like you can hear a piece of this song here (mind you, it's rock'n'roll...)

[nichi]

Greatest work it is... 'For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so?' (Sermon of the Mount)

One Buddhist monk I know used to walk in the neighbourhood of the Buddhist centre every morning and greet everyone he met and ask how they were doing.

As above, so below ....
As below, so above.....

*hugz*

[erik]

 

[nichi]

Bird
 
 
It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through which the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.

When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.

  Pablo Neruda

[nichi]

To Be Of Use

I want to be with people who submerge in the task,
Who go out into the fields to harvest and work in a row and pass the bags along,
Who stand in the line and haul in their places,
Who are not parlor generals and field deserters but move in a common rhythm when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud. Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil, Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.


~-Marge Piercy
"To Be of Use," Reading #567 in Singing the Living Tradition

[nichi]

As the gate of heaven opens and closes,
Can you be impassive?
As understanding reaches everywhere,
Can you be innocent?
Producing and developing,
Producing without possessing,
Doing without presuming,
Growing without domineering:
This is called mysterious power.

 - Tao-te Ching

[Jennifer-]

 

These are lovely V !!!

Thanks bunches!

[nichi]

Spring

 

             Somewhere
                 a black bear
                    has just risen from sleep
                       and is staring

              down the mountain.
                 All night
                    in the brisk and shallow restlessness
                       of early spring

              I think of her,
                 her four black fists
                    flicking the gravel,
                       her tongue

              like a red fire
                 touching the grass,
                    the cold water.
                       There is only one question:

              how to love this world.
                 I think of her
                    rising
                       like a black and leafy ledge

              to sharpen her claws against
                 the silence
                    of the trees.
                       Whatever else

              my life is
                 with its poems
                    and its music
                       and its cities,

              it is also this dazzling darkness
                 coming
                    down the mountain,
                       breathing and tasting;

              all day I think of her-
                 her white teeth,
                    her wordlessness,
                       her perfect love.


~ Mary Oliver ~

[nichi]

If It Is Not Too Dark

Go for a walk, if it is not too dark.
Get some fresh air, try to smile.
Say something kind
To a safe-looking stranger, if one happens by.

Always exercise your heart's knowing.

You might as well attempt something real
Along this path:

Take your spouse or lover into your arms
The way you did when you first met.
Let tenderness pour from your eyes
The way the Sun gazes warmly on the earth.

Play a game with some children.
Extend yourself to a friend.
Sing a few ribald songs to your pets and plants -
Why not let them get drunk and wild!

Let's toast
Every rung we've climbed on Evolution's ladder.
Whisper, "I love you! I love you!"
To the whole mad world.

Let's stop reading about God -
We will never understand Him.

Jump to your feet, wave your fists,
Threaten and warn the whole Universe

That your heart can no longer live
Without real love!

~Hafiz~


("I Heard God Laughing - Renderings of Hafiz" by Daniel Ladinsky)

 

[nichi]

How close to becoming spirit something is,
when it is still so immensely far away
from hands!
like starlight,
like a nameless voice
in a dream, like faraway horses,
that we hear, as we breathe heavily,
one ear placed to the ground;
like the sea on the telephone...
And life begins to grow
within us, the delightful daylight
that cannot be switched off,
that is thinning, now, somewhere else.
Ah, how lovely, how lovely,
truth, even if it is not real, how lovely!

From Diario de Poesia y Mar,
Juan Ramon Jiminez

[nichi]

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down,
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?


~ Mary Oliver ~

(New and Selected Poems)