Picking up a few wind-downed birch and fir branches, I found out just how soggy the backyard is. Each step was accompanied by a luscious squish — two words you don’t see together very often — the result of the frequent rains we’ve been having. This didn’t stop me, though, from making a fair beginning of the annual pruning of our fig tree, which is a fair-sized job requiring the […]
As well as you can, be light in your body, and light on your feet. Be the light in your body. As well as you can, be the well from which the light emanates. And be home in your body as you are home in the earth. For your body is the earth, and not only the earth, your body is the nearest and farthest star, a little cloud chasing […]
I’ve lived a fair span; it would be greedy to depend on more; yet it isn’t good grace to count the years, or close the door. . Read the forty-third, forty-fourth, and forty-fifth chapters of Middlemarch. Read The Rambler, Numb. 9. Tuesday, April 17, 1750. Chuse what you are; no other state prefer. — Elphinston The philosopher may very justly be delighted with the extent of his views, and the […]
Drinking from the birdbath, washing face and hands, a pretty little wasp teaches me. . [ 1798 ]
Ancient man is in me. I see his starry night. I hear him call. Feel him shiver. Wait for light. He gathers food. Seeks a hand to touch. Looks out from the precipice. Dreams his waking dream. A few ripe berries. Finger stains. Computer keys. . [ 1786 ]
The fig tree is a show of tiny hands. The vote for spring is in, all affirmative. . [ 1738 ]
Said the little statue,What is eternity, now that I have been clay in your hands? And the artist gently replied,What it has always been. But I have changed, and you are more than I am. . [ 1646 ]
As my fingertips on one hand traced the lines of the open palm of the other, I suddenly recognized them both as old childhood friends. It felt like years since I’d seen them. I held them up. They looked at each other, then at me. There were many things I could have asked them, but they seemed so sensitive and shy, I only nodded and kept silent, thinking, Perhaps another […]
A clock without numbers. A clock without hands. A face out of time. . [ 1621 ]
William Michaelian 