Category Archives: text

The Tree of Life – a Poem

The Tree of Life – a Poem

Behold that before the emanations were emanated and the creatures were created,
The Upper Simple Light had filled the whole existence.
And there was no vacancy, such as an empty air, a hollow,
But all was filled with that Simple, Boundless Light. Continue reading

women / hurricanes

Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore hast thou surely the sky a weird colour turneth…

point in the heart

everyone has a point inside that strives for something bigger than us. Nature, Creator, Spiritus Mundi, it doesn’t matter what you call it. and I think it is the purpose of our existence to discover and grow it until our self is one with everything.

-tm

For Once, Then, Something

For Once, Then, Something
BY ROBERT FROST

Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.

 

This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calm’d–see here it is–
I hold it towards you.

John Keats (1795–1821)

the value of music

what is the value of music? what is it for? how would you put it in words?

would be great to find out what you think!

(below: a young beethoven, probably trying to answer the same question)

Laurence Binyon – For The Fallen

A famous First World War poem, the fourth verse is commonly read during Remembrance Day services. But I think the last two stanzas are the best.

For The Fallen [excerpt]

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.