The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.
Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Friday, 4 January 2013
soup and the sublime
But anyway, because of all that, here's a little thing for you – a really lovely short piece by Adrienne Rich, she who said that poetry can save your life:
Freedom. It isn't once, to walk out
under the Milky Way, feeling the rivers
of light, the fields of dark –
freedom is daily, prose-bound, routine
remembering. Putting together, inch by inch
the starry worlds. From all the lost collections.
Adrienne Rich, 1979
- ► 2017 (45)
- ► 2016 (88)
- ► 2015 (78)
- ► 2014 (123)
- dipping into the ragbag
- a little matter of relationship
- wild boar 11
- wild boar
- naturally we will turn giddy (on visionquest & sol...
- 15 Things You Could Give Up To Be Happy
- holding it all lightly
- dark forest 11: climbing down the roots of the tre...
- moments of glory
- shadow and ambiguity in poetry
- soup and the sublime
- waking up in the dark
- ▼ January (14)
- ► 2012 (199)
- ► 2011 (284)