THANKSGIVING

As the sun rose this Thanksgiving morning, gradually warming the fields and woodlands that surround our new home in South Carolina, I remembered a Denise Levertov song of praise that I recently discovered.  It's an excerpt from Levertov's long poem, Mass For The Day of St. Thomas Didymus, and it expresses much of what I feel on this day — a deep sense of gratitude for the daily unfolding of life; for simple, overlooked things like light and shadow; and for the mysterious forces that continue to give meaning to our lives through "flow and change, night and the pulse of day."  Perhaps you, too, will be inspired by the poem.

                                                            ii Gloria

by Denise Levertov

                                Praise the wet snow

                                         falling early.

                                Praise the shadow

                                         my neighbor's chimney casts on the tile roof

                                even this gray October day that should, they say,

                                have been golden.

                                                 Praise

                                the invisible sun burning beyond

                                     the white cold sky, giving us

                                light and the chimney's shadow.

                                Praise

                                god or the gods, the unknown,

                                that which imagined us, which stays

                                our hand,

                                our murderous hand,

                                                     and gives us

                                still,

                                in the shadow of death,

                                             our daily life,

                                             and the dream still

                                of goodwill, of peace on earth.

                                Praise

                                flow and change, night and 

                                the pulse of day.

                       HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO EVERYONE!

NEW WATERMARKS IN OTHER HEMISPHERES

ALL THE HEMISPHERES

 HAFIZ

                            Leave the familiar for a while.  Let your senses 

                            and bodies stretch out

                             like a welcomed season onto meadows and

                             shores and hills.

                            Open up to the roof.  Make a new watermark 

                            on your excitement and love.

                             Like a blooming night flower, bestow your vital

                             fragrance of happiness and giving upon our 

                             intimate assembly.

                             Change rooms in your mind for a day.  All the 

                             hemispheres in existence lie beside an equator 

                             in your soul.

                             Greet yourself in your thousand other forms as 

                             you mount the hidden tide and travel back home.

                             All the hemispheres in heaven are sitting around 

                             a campfire chatting, while

                             stitching themselves together into the great circle

                             inside of you.

Translation by Daniel Ladinsky, A Year With Hafiz: Daily Contemplations

TABLE ROCK AND PINNACLE LAKE

After seemingly endless months

of selling a house, buying a house, moving from one state to another, 

and trying to retain some measure of order in my life, 

I left the the household chaos early this morning and drove 

an hour northward to enjoy some of the myriad offerings of autumn

 in the Southern Appalachians.

My destination was Table Rock and Lake Pinnacle, 

a tranquil and pristine body of water that lies at the foot of the cliffs.

  When I arrived, the lake was just emerging from the morning fog. 

 In fifteen or twenty minutes, however, the skies began to clear . . . 

. . . and Table Rock greeted the morning sun with all of its glory.

Below the sheer cliffs of Table Rock, 

the trees seemed to create an impressionist painting of the fall colors . . .

Circling Lake Pinnacle, which was flat as a mirror,

 offered amazing views of the skies, mountains, and foliage

 being reflected in the still waters.

This was the finest day I've enjoyed in many months, 

and I'm truly excited about the infinite possibilities of exploring this part of my new world on foot.  There are trails in every direction and the scenery is nothing less than sensational!

These particular photos are best viewed at full screen (click on center of each photo).

MOORLAND

Moors in North York Moors National Park, North Yorkshire, England

                                                     The Moor

                                                    R.S. Thomas

                                       It was like a church to me.

                                       I entered it on soft foot,

                                       Breath held like a cap in the hand.

                                       It was quiet.

                                       What God was there made himself felt,

                                       Not listened to , in clean colors

                                       That brought a moistening of the eye,

                                       In movement of the wind over the grass.

                                       There were no prayers said.  But stillness

                                       Of the heart's passions — that was praise

                                       Enough; and the mind's cession

                                       Of its kingdom.  I walked on.

                                       Simple and poor, while the air crumbled

                                       and broke on me generously as bread.