who can keep them as they are?
Unceasingly in their faces
the life in them arises and goes forth.
Like dew from morning grass,
like steam from a plate of food,
what is ours goes out from us.
Where does a smile go, or the upward glance,
the sudden warm movement of the heart?
Yet that is what we are. Does the universe
we dissolve into
taste of us a little?
From the Second Duino Elegy
Lovely video!
ReplyDeleteit is in the elemental where all truth lies, truth that says only, we are here in these temporary glowing forms for now, only for now, and yet, my god, we are here. it is not in the being of the teapot that i am happy. it is in the swollen curve of its pregnant side, the cheek kissed spot where light moves across. it is in not in his walking man that i am happy, but in how my lips touch his alabaster hip bone rise like light while living continents away. it is always in the elemental, not of the flower itself being a flower, but how the flower is a flower, the relationship of all its simple shining parts and how i face it.
ReplyDeletexo
erin
Maureen, I know. The colors, abstract patterns, textures, and delicacies of the video are so moving. The harpist reminds me of the recent photo of the harpist in front of Chartres cathedral.
ReplyDeleteErin, so beautiful, what you have felt and written. You describe pleasure in forms. How is it possible for so much to come through our senses, to feed our very souls?