Saturday, October 10, 2009

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving weekend and snow on the ground! * o

Poetry Moment

All My Body Calls

All my body calls
for something in this sleeping
we call the spirit.
But how
from lifted arms
where stars run through fingers
and the night is like sand
do I breathe a fragrance of its wisdom
do I call its name
or listen to the drops
that trickle down to earth
and hear
life being given
not only through the moving hands of the forest
but through the hand that reaches in
the dark unmoving regions of the chest
and uncovers slowly
the enormous
shape of the ocean.
~ David Whyte ~
(Songs for Coming Home)

(photo is of my favorite spot to sit on my walks)
* o