Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Today I am a rock
Today I am a rock on a hillside.
Did you know I can make it rain?
No cloud can refuse me.
How they cry to see
me anchored so
as if I were
not free
to go
as if an eon hence
I will not be,
myself,
an avalanche.
Library Notes: Added books by Upton Sinclair, Dylan Thomas, Carolyn Wells, William Thackeray, and John Greenleaf Whittier.
Update:
“Today I am a rock” added to Poems, Slightly Used.
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22 comments:
the power of patience!
and transformation. it is wonderful to think on.
xo
erin
Go right ahead. I have time — as if there really were such a preposterous thing.
William belive me, today it is so good for me to read this... thank you very much, this has gaven me the right feeling that I need today, woh i', down because arrogance and ignorance people...
yes they want to bring me down, they try to hurt me, but they succeed only to make me a little scratch, I find this tought in your words today
Thank you, Laura. As your post so beautifully shows, it doesn’t matter which side of the fence we’re on; what matters is that there is a fence at all.
A soft & gentle teardrop shed with the strength to move mountains of dirt and stones...
Beautiful words William~~~
:-) true...
Thank you, Jan. As are yours.
Thank you, Laura.
You write poety and can understand and relate to...thank you!
You’re welcome, Theanne, and thank you. That’s wonderful to hear, and nice of you to say.
♫...'Til the landslide brings me down...♫
It must be time for my guitar solo. Ah, to be a rock and not to roll....
I think I saw you today, anchored so. Sometimes I wish I could be a rock too.
Anthony, don’t give up. Check for moss. Take nothing for granite.
ah William, this is a gem.
as always, every word, lovingly selected and exquisitely balanced, one on top of the other.
and yes, time, a silly notion indeed ...
I'm going to make a broad but hopefully not inaccurate statement when I say that everything you write could have been understood, even in translation, one or ten thousand years ago.
Aye, Noxy, ’tis a feeble, vain construct, a limited sounding and arbitrary measurement of the infinite. Thank you for your kind words.
Kevin, thanks. I too hope your statement is accurate. But what matters most to me is that it seems accurate to you. In a sense, everything we do is a translation. It’s an inspiring challenge to bring to light the lifetime of what we feel in any given moment. Generally speaking, is what we feel the same as what we felt a thousand or ten thousand years ago? It seems so, especially when you think that ten thousand years is nothing more than the blink of an eye.
After reading your beautiful words my head is always filled with words to decribe how your words touch my soul. But i don't wanna write down so much words, for sweet silence is the only answer to your writings. Thanks for touching my spoul again and again....
Momo Luna, thank you. You are always so good to me.
how might i get ahead of my preposterous notions? truly.
xo
erin
Do you really know which are preposterous and which aren’t? Do you know if any of them are? I don’t. And if we find out in retrospect, who’s to say that the discovery itself is not but another preposterous notion?
durnabit!
xo
erin
Always glad to help.
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