Sometimes a man stands up during supper
and walks outdoors,
and keeps on walking,
because of a church
that stands somewhere in the East.
And his children say blessings on him as if he were dead.
And another man,
who remains inside his own house,
inside the dishes and in the glasses,
so that his children
have to go far out into the world
toward that same church,
which he forgot.
Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Robert Bly)
|Spring at White Sands (2015)|
When grapes turn
to wine, they long for our ability to change.
When stars reel
around the North Pole,
they are longing for our growing consciousness.
Wine got drunk with us,
not the other way.
The body developed out of us, not we from it.
We are bees, and our body
is a honeycomb.
the body, cell by cell, we made it.
Rumi (Translated by Robert Bly)