Linda Pahl on tue 27 jan 04
Hello all.
I also found this rich poem by Brother Daniel of Taize and I thought
I'd share it as well as the Autumn poem.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Summer
A glaze
in its bucket:
a violin in its case.
Your feathered seeds,
dandelion:
halo of a dead flame.
With a long journey ahead,
I row away
in my tank of glaze.
The river is narrow.
But the bleak
finds water wherever it goes.
Spider busy spinning
in the freshly-thrown jug:
your life on a thread!
July rain.
Incandescent
glow-worm.
How hot is your oven?
asked
the baker.
Every ruin
has its swallow.
Such is Grace.
Spoilt blue vase
glorious
holding sunflowers.
Ripen, green apples!
When you're ready,
we'll pick you.
On the embankments,
purple foxgloves.
My pots in bloom.
Whirlwind
of swifts,
stony tower.
My sickly pots
mean more to me
than the healthy ones!
Such curtsies before the wind!
That isn't the Spirit,
dear bamboos!
My dreams of glazes!
Muddy
in their plastic buckets.
Of all the jay's feathers,
the ones you find
are always the little blue ones.
I pursue my potter's path
burrowing like a mole.
What a warren, at times!
Brother Daniel, of Taize
Regards,
Linda Pahl, Kew Gardens, New York
TheClosetPotter@earthlink.net
(I throw on my wheel in my hall closet; the only possible solution in
this tiny apartment!)
http://home.earthlink.net/~jessieadair/tests/
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