Love is beauty and beauty is truth, and that is why in the beauty of a flower we can see the truth of the universe.
You never hear people put it this way, and I don’t intend to start a trend, but when we consider the ever-evolving process of a person’s thinking, the way a person imagines and organizes the world, it could almost seem appropriate to ask each other from time to time, How’s your religion coming along? How’s it going? Born again, or the same old, same old? Did you successfully distinguish darkness from light in the course of your day? Is there a fever in your mind that won’t go away? Mind if I prescribe a poem?
~ David Dark
Let me peer out at the world
through your lens. (Maybe I’ll shudder,
or gasp, or tilt my head in a question.)
Let me see how your blue
is my turquoise and my orange
is your gold. Suddenly binary
stars, we have startling
gravity. Let’s compare
scintillation – let’s share
~ Naomi Shihab Nye, Time You Let Me In: 25 Poets under 25
Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,
with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
Excerpted from Mary Oliver’s poem “Peonies.”
You can find the full version here. If you haven’t read it, please do. It’s lovely.
In Greek mythology there is a legend of a woman by the name of Halcyone and her husband Ceyx. Shortly after their wedding, Ceyx had to make a voyage. A storm arose during the voyage, and Ceyx was drowned. Every day that he was gone, Halcyone walked the shores of the beaches, longing for her husband. After several months, the body of her husband washed ashore.
Halcyone was so filled with grief that she threw herself into the ocean. The gods were moved by her love and grief, and she and her husband were turned into kingfishers. They rose out of the ocean and flew off happily into the blue skies. It was declared that the seas would be calm and the sun would shine for seven days before and seven days after the shortest day of the year. This time came to be known as the halcyon days. Today, all sunlit days upon the water are considered halcyon days.
~ Ted Andrews, Animal Speak
Sometimes you’ve got to jump off cliffs and grow wings on the way down.
~ Ray Bradbury
I went out for a walk the other evening to stretch my legs and enjoy the breeze. It was one of those liminal times, just after the sun has set but before the darkness takes over, a time between times when the veil between the worlds is thin and, it is said, magic happens. As I approached the roses, I caught sight of something out of the corner of eye. A wing, a flicker, a spark of light, a giggle made almost tangible. I looked down towards the ground where I thought the flutter had come from, and there I found a tiny bed made from a rose petal nestled in the curved valley of a leaf.