be here now..

Enough

by Jeffrey Harrison

It’s a gift, this cloudless November morning
warm enough for you to walk without a jacket
along your favorite path. The rhythmic shushing
of your feet through fallen leaves should be
enough to quiet the mind, so it surprises you
when you catch yourself telling off your boss
for a decade of accumulated injustices,
all the things you’ve never said circling inside you.

It’s the rising wind that pulls you out of it,
and you look up to see a cloud of leaves
swirling in sunlight, flickering against the blue
and rising above the treetops, as if the whole day
were sighing, Let it go, let it go,
for this moment at least, let it all go.

Autumn - Hay Castle

This ancient building is at the heart of our small town and believe it or not there is a enormous book shop in the other, not so ruined, end of the castle.  For more information about it go here

Autumn - Hay Castle

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DAYS

Each one is a gift, no doubt,
mysteriously placed in your waking hand
or set upon your forehead
moments before you open your eyes.
Today begins cold and bright,
the ground heavy with snow
and the thick masonry of ice,
the sun glinting off the turrets of clouds.
Through the calm eye of the window
everything is in its place
but so precariously
this day might be resting somehow
on the one before it,
all the days of the past stacked high
like the impossible tower of dishes
entertainers used to build on stage.
No wonder you find yourself
perched on the top of a tall ladder
hoping to add one more.
Just another Wednesday
you whisper,
then holding your breath,
place this cup on yesterday’s saucer
without the slightest clink.

– Billy Collins

Fuzzy Slippers..

My first go at felting slippers was a bit nerve racking, but fun.  I did some research first, looking at many and varied websites and the odd book, but in the end I mostly followed the instructions on this blog –  For The Love Of Felt and it worked a treat.  Not perfect of course but the next pair will be better.

Felted a spectacle case today to house my much abused glasses.  I need two pairs now as I have become long sighted as well as short.   I was going to make another pair of slippers, trying out the boot style, but I already had a commission to make a curly heart brooch, my studio was in need of a purging and I had a friend calling for coffee so felted boots were not created.  Everything takes a lot longer when you are starting out to learn.

The studio purge has meant that I have FINALLY thrown out my uni essays and my teenage poetry.  I kept the essays because of all the work I put into them and some of them I was really proud of – but the poetry? I have no excuse for keeping them for so long.  Really I could have given the Vogons a run for their money.

We are heading out to the country to spend the weekend with our friends Julie and Blair tomorrow.  They live deep in the Mangatarere Valley and I love it there, I love the darkness and utter silence at night – except for the odd Morepork (owl) or two.

First slippers

Not So Exciting, but Interesting..

It’s interesting watching the way events play out.  After yesterdays excitement,  the people who were going to buy our bed to enable the plane ticket purchase have backed out, at least for the mean time, so we shall just have to exercise our patience a bit longer.  I am very much not bothered by this and actually – I love our bed and was not looking forward to seeing it go so soon.  So it’s all good.  And it will all happen when the time is right..

Poetry

My good friend Kate, who lives in Wellington, is getting married in April this year and is looking for a extra special poem to read at the ceremony.  This is her request of me:

I loved the Wild Geese poem you put up, and it got me thinking. I’ve been trying to find something for one of Colin’s siblings to read at our wedding, but I can’t seem to find anything that isn’t too mushy or archaic or god-ish or been used at a million other weddings. I wonder if you might know of something. I’m not sure exactly what I want, but something about love or relationships I guess, something different, maybe funny, could be modern could be old… Dunno – any ideas gratefully received!

I had a thought that someone out there in interweb land might be able to help – so leave a comment if you can, most appreciated.

And talking of poetry, here is one for older love.

from Twenty-one Love Poems

Since we’re not young, weeks have to do time

for years of missing each other. Yet only this odd warp

in time tells me we’re not young.

Did I ever walk the morning streets at twenty,

my limbs streaming with a purer joy?

Did I lean from any window over the city

listening for the future

as I listen here with nerves tuned for your ring?

And you, you move toward me with the same tempo.

Your eyes are everlasting, the green spark

of the blue-eyed grass of early summer,

the green-blue wild cress washed by the spring.

At twenty, yes:  we thought we’d live forever.

At forty-five, I want to know even our limits.

I touch you knowing we weren’t born tomorrow,

and somehow, each of us will help the other live,

and somewhere, each of us must help the other die.

Adrienne Rich




Wild Geese

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.       Mary Oliver