Posts Tagged ‘god’
moonshine
from a distance the world appears
half illuminated, an asterisk
glancing the unlit shoulder,
a footnote of sun amending unseen
mountains and rivers, restless and hard
to measure without eating the arid
or sinking deep in the shifting
as solid makes its way to sand.
lightning, a lucid ricochet
that splits the sky in an instant,
provoked by the heavens and all
they inhabit, the silt of the unnamed,
veining black into blue and white,
scatters the soft lining of another evening.
the round heel of the moon
glimmers in the dusty pools
of someone’s basement,
gliding across deserts, oceans,
and living room carpets.
we grow tired of learning
to starve without staggering.
we want for what shines, what slides
full and naked, rippling tides,
startling the placid, precipitation
slipping the smile from the somnolent,
smothering the smell of dry facts,
the sad and the sated, science,
the ritual of allowing the other
to analyze the ancient.
even the experts, god,
cannot completely unmask
without turning off the lights.
happenings
Just a few things I’ve run across today…
Sir Ken Robinson ( from Ted Talks – transcript) (see video here: http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/66)
I heard a great story recently, I love telling it, of a little girl who was in a drawing lesson, she was 6 and she was at the back, drawing, and the teacher said this little girl hardly paid attention, and in this drawing lesson she did. The teacher was fascinated and she went over to her and she said, “What are you drawing?” and the girl said, “I’m drawing a picture of God.” And the teacher said, “But nobody knows what God looks like.” And the girl said, “They will in a minute.” [...]
