Everything

another new favorite I discovered during my poetry reading marathon this week...

Everything

I want to make poems that say right out, plainly,
what I mean, that don't go looking for the
laces of elaboration, puffed sleeves. I want to
keep close and use often words like
heavy, heart, joy, soon, and to cherish
the question mark and her bold sister

the dash. I want to write with quiet hands. I
want to write while crossing the fields that are
fresh with daises and everlasting and the
ordinary grass. I want to make poems while thinking of
the bread of heaven and the
cup of astonishment; let them be

songs in which nothing is neglected,
not a hope, not a promise. I want to make poems
that look into the earth and the heavens
and see the unseeable. I want them to honor
both the heart of faith, and the light of the world;
the gladness that says, without any words, everything.

~ Mary Oliver ~

(New and Selected Poems Volume Two)

The Pleasures of Ordinary Life

The Pleasures of Ordinary Life I've had my share of necessary losses, Of dreams I know no longer can come true. I'm done now with the whys and the becauses. It's time to make things good, not just make do. It's time to stop complaining and pursue The pleasures of an ordinary life. I used to rail against my compromises. I yearned for the wild music, the swift race. But happiness arrived in new disguises: Sun lighting a child's hair. A friend's embrace. Slow dancing in a safe and quiet place. The pleasures of an ordinary life. I'll have no trumpets, triumphs, trails of glory. It seems the woman I've turned out to be Is not the heroine of some grand story. But I have learned to find the poetry In what my hands can touch, my eyes can see. The pleasures of an ordinary life. Young fantasies of magic and of mystery Are over. But they really can't compete With all we've built together: A long history. Connections that help render us complete. Ties that hold and heal us. And the sweet, Sweet pleasures of an ordinary life. Judith Viorst

I have been reading lots of poetry lately. Today I read this collection by Judith Viorst. The poem I posted can be found in this book. I think it is reassuring to get to a time in your life when the pleasure does come from ordinary life. There are no trumpets, trails of glory, and I am not the star of a play or movie. I do relish the pleasure in my first tomato, green beans beginning their climb up the pole, blooms on a geranium plant, reading poetry books by candlelight, and picking a bouquet. All of it is sweet, sweet pleasure.

The First Tomato: Star of Earth

Ah....that joy of the first tomato of the season. We picked it and had the most delicious BLT sandwiches yesterday. Pablo Neruda uses words as art in honoring the tomato.

I have been reading many poets this summer. Raymond Pert had used selected poems of Pablo Neruda during the writing retreat and I have since read two of his books. Every word is carefully chosen to help the reader create an image or a sensory experience when observing a simple thing such as a tomato .This is what he said about poetry in the introduction
to his book The Essential Neruda :

“On our earth, before writing was invented, before the printing press was invented, poetry flourished. That is why we know that poetry is like bread; it should be shared by all, by scholars and by peasants, by all our vast, incredible, extraordinary family of humanity.”

Ode to Tomatoes

by Pablo Neruda

The street
filled with tomatoes,
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera,
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhaustible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it’s time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth,
recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.

as translated by Margaret Sayers Peden

I was so excited about this first tomato I must have been shaking and got a fuzzy picture!

Thanks So Much Carol!

Carol at Charlie and Me gave me this award recently. I just love the name and the logo. Go visit Charlie and Me here because it is just plain fun to read also. Any of my blogs on my blog roll are fun to read, but today I want to honor the following. Check out their blogs!
Marcy at http://myquiltsnstuff.wordpress.com
Granny Smith at http://phyllisophy.blogspot.com/
JoJo at http://littlegreygardens.blogspot.com/
Katrina at http://notesonanapkin.wordpress.com/
my brother Raymond Pert at http://kelloggbloggin.blogspot.com
and my sister Silver Valley Girl at http://silvervalleystories.blogspot.com

Here Are The Answers to the Questions: What Was It and Where Was It?

Here are the answers to my Photo Hunt blog post here. Marmite Toasty had the most creative answer: a weather map over my area. Most of you were close. Yes, it was a rock.
It was located at French Rock boat launch and beach just south of my house where we went to take pictures the other day.
Along the parking lot there has been a collection of large rocks placed as a border. I was looking for wildflowers for pictures and spotted this rock.
Here is a picture that is a bit bigger. The colors are what caught my eye at first, then I saw how the different colors created the image of the face. I thought it looked like a dog or a wolf. Others thought is could have been a bear, horse, or dragon. I do believe it is a metamorphic rock. That is what is found around Lake Roosevelt, but you geology buffs out there may know more than I do! Now.... here is the weird thing. I went back today to get a better picture of the whole rock. I could not find that specific rock with that picture. I looked up and down the rocks. I don't know if the sun was shining different on it or if it walked away!!! Very weird.
Thanks for guessing. I may have to do another post on "What Is It?"

Sunday Scribblings: Abound in Hope

Today when I thought of ghosts for the Sunday Scribbling topic, I thought of the holy spirit. I snapped these pictures recently by Barnaby Island on Lake Roosevelt in Washington state. I enjoy taking tree pictures because it reminds me of the vastness of our father's world. Also photographing trees provides another perspective of the heaven above.

"Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13 To read other Sunday Scribblings about spirits and ghosts go here.