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He thought he kept the universe alone;
For all the voice in answer he could wake
Was but the mocking echo of his own
From some tree-hidden cliff across the lake.
Some morning from the boulder-broken beach
He would cry out on life, that what it wants
Is not its own love back in copy speech,
But counter-love, original response.
And nothing ever came of what he cried
Unless it was the embodiment that crashed
In the cliff’s talus on the other side,
And then in the far distant water splashed,
But after a time allowed for it to swim,
Instead of proving human when it neared
And someone else additional to him,
As a great buck it powerfully appeared,
Pushing the crumpled water up ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread,
And forced the underbrush–and that was all.
When all Earth’s seas shall Levitate,
Dark shawled within the skies,
Upon our eyes will Starfish dance
Their waltz of Blind surprise.
The sun will Rise within wine Dark
As Argonauts imbibed,
Whose drunken arms embrace that sleep
Where Phaeton’s horses Stride.
Upon all of Earth’s wind-sanded shores,
As dolphins Learn to soar,
All we once were on the land
Shall be sealed behind the door
Of Ivory and Chastened Gold,
That the Mystery solved complete
Shall never til the seas’ Long fall
Wake mariners from their sleep.
— Van der Leun
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
— The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot
Gerard Van der Leun
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Happy Easter, Gerard! Don’t you love a black cat in sunshine? Especially those smooth, damp places just washed? She’s loving her Easter sunshine.
Just got back from walking five and a half rigorous miles on this cool gray Easter. Got home, flopped in the red chair, and Buddy the Cat jumped right up into my lap to join me. My wife is doing her exercises in her den. It’s quiet here, and we’re OK. Much to be grateful for.
A blessed Easter to all who stop by.
JWM
I go to a tiny Baptist Church two blocks away. The last three weeks, there have been five worshippers including the pastor and his wife. She plays the piano and live-streams his sermons on Facebook, for the others of the congregation who stay home. The pastor doesn’t want to preach to an empty church, so three of us listen to his sermon. There is a sign about a block from the church that tells us we can be arrested, jailed and fined $1000 for nonessential travel. It’s shocking! I can’t help feeling the Deep State is continuing on with its coup attempt by exploiting this shutdown.
Happy Easter, Gerard! Nothing like a happy cat in a basket in the sunshine… What a wonderful world, indeed.
It’s shocking! I can’t help feeling the Deep State is continuing on with its coup attempt by exploiting this shutdown.
It helps me to remember that the Powers That Were set a guard at the door of Christ’s tomb after His burial, and a fat lot of good that did them. The Lord is risen, He is risen indeed!
And yes, I like to think there was a little black cat walking in the garden on the first Easter, and that He stopped to pet and bless her. On this Easter, Olive is a picture of sunlit contentment, with the deep pink flower complementing her red collar and heart tag.
Easter greetings to both of you.
Begs the question, Margot, what would be their penalty for running their sign over and flattening it. Literally anything, presumably, considering they have already abandoned their sworn oath with contempt.
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
Of late I’ve been wondering what that stout fellow who cleared the temple in Jerusalem of money-changers would do under our present situation.
As the Babylon Bee advises, “Romans investigating Jesus for violating Stay-At-Tomb order.”
Happy Easter, Gerard and AD readers!
Happy Easter, Gerard! And to you, too, Miss Olive! And to y’all!
“I know that my Redeemer liveth” – Job 19:25
P.S. – Did I tell you we adopted a black kitty last November? We named her Pepper.
Now you hafta adopt a white male and name him Salt.