Poetry in motion

Poetry in motion

My own conviction is that poetry is far the deepest in us, and that prose is only broken-down poetry; and likewise that to this our lives correspond…. As you will hear some people read poetry so that no mortal could tell it was poetry, so do some people read...
Hope in the storms of life

Hope in the storms of life

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without words, And never stops at all. And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I’ve heard it in the chilliest...
An unaccustomed wine

An unaccustomed wine

I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching next to mine, And summon them to drink….   And so I always bear the cup If, haply, mine may be the drop Some pilgrim thirst to slake, –   If, haply, any say to me, “Unto the little, unto me,” When I at...
Climbing out of bed

Climbing out of bed

Teach me thy love to know; That this new light, which now I see, May both the work and workman show: Then by a sunbeam I will climb to thee.   George Herbert (1593-1633), Mattens.  
Together truth and beauty are  one

Together truth and beauty are one

I died for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room.   He questioned softly why I failed? ‘For beauty,’ I replied. ‘And I for truth, – the two are one; We brethren are,’ he said.   And so,...