"Erudition, no matter how scientific or comprehensive, is at best only ancillary to the direct knowledge gained by detached intellection." C.F.Kelley
"When the mind is happy, the whole universe is happy."
Seung Sahn
Click into here for eventual delightful closeup:
Ha! That looks familiar :)
ReplyDeleteYes. I first saw it on your wall, thanks to your hospitality and lovingkindness.
ReplyDeleteThat's a picture worth a thousand words. I can relate, also.
ReplyDelete---journey tour guide
We are voyagers of the thought realms, intranauts of vastness.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful visual, George. It made me laugh as a cartoonic representation of you in the wee hours. I'll bet it does feel that way at times, inside and out. But never feel your efforts are in vain, or worse, mad. Quixote is a great warrior. And there are many windmills (blowhards)that are in need of a good fight for no other reason but the ideal.
ReplyDelete"Loveland
High atop Loveland,
there were no shooting
stars; the skies did not
fall, but remained fast,
protecting the earth.
Unreachable stars
were hard to find then
and I grabbed and stuffed
my pockets full of them.
At fourteen thousand
feet the air was thin,
I began to drift.
The wind blew hard and
cold and it turned me
around, wheeling and
spinning until my
braces flew out from
under me, but no,
they did not fall off,
someone chopped them off
at my knees and I
fell off Loveland
in slow motion. I
thudded on the ground
and the stars shot from
my pockets, and thus
began the fireworks.
Ah Quixote, you
heartbreaker you, I
wonder if I will
ever be that high
again."
Thank you. There is hardly a greater blessing than to be seen and understood.
ReplyDeleteYour Loveland poem is a strong and sensitive expression of these wee hour experiences. I resonate -- through to the bone and its marrow. to the core. And as Mr. Kristofferson says, and as you well know, "the going up is worth the coming down."
I am blessed that in this journey, up and down are disappearing into each other, swallowing each other whole, and there/here is only THIS.
As your poem so poignantly reveals, heartbreak is part of the price.