Morning Trip (8)

“I want to lie down in dappled leaf-shade,
In quivering shadows of quivering leaves —

be they oak, be they maple,
be they elm or birch,
I want to rest in the play of shadows
over my reclining form,
The massage of shadows
which consoles me in its way,
Restores for me
with whatever restoration
Flickering shadows of leaves afford–
be they willow or aspen,
be they poplar or beech,
I want to be caressed by shadows
of wavering leaves,
Soothed off to sleep
feeling the gentle breeze,
Looking up at the rustling
sun-drenched crown–
Be it basswood, be it chestnut,
Be it walnut or hickory,
after all is said,
after all is done,
This is the way
I would die.”

–ANTLER

Morning Trip (7)

“I ask for a moment’s indulgence to sit by Thy side.
The works that I have in hand
I will finish afterwards.

Away from the sight of Thy face
My heart knows no rest or respite,
And my work becomes an endless toil
In a shoreless sea of toil.

Today the summer has come at my window
With its sighs and murmurs,
And the bees are plying their minstrelsy
At the court of the flowering grove.

Now it is time to sit quiet
Face to face with Thee,
And to sing dedication of life
In this silent and overflowing leisure.”

RABINDRANATH TAGORE

Patience copyright

Morning Trip (6)

Motive

Motive

“Nothing is an awe-inspiring yet essentially undigested concept, highly esteemed by writers of a mystical or existential tendency, but by most others regarded with anxiety, nausea, or panic. Nobody seems to know how to deal with it (he would of course), and plain persons generally are reported to have little difficulty in saying, seeing, hearing, and doing nothing.
The friends of nothing may be divided into two distinct though not exclusive classes: the know-nothings, who claim a phenomenological acquaintance with nothing in particular, and the fear-nothings, who, believing, with Macbeth, that “nothing is but what is not,” are thereby launched into dialectical encounter with nullity in general.

Motion

Motion

If nothing whatsoever existed, there would be no problem and no answer, and the anxieties even of existential philosophers would be permanently laid to rest. Since they are not, there is evidently nothing to worry about. But that itself should be enough to keep an existentialist happy. Unless the solution be, as some have suspected, that it is not nothing that has been worrying them, but they who have been worrying it.”
– P.L. Heath

“You may remember the story of how the devil and a friend of his
were walking down the street, when they saw ahead of them
a man stoop down and pick up something from the ground,
look at it, and put it away in his pocket.

The friend said to the devil, “What did that man pick up?”

“He picked up a piece of Truth,” said the devil.

“That is a very bad business for you, then,” said his friend.

“Oh, not at all,” the devil replied, “I am going to let him organize it.”
– Jiddu Krishnamurti

Morning Trip (5)

Sometimes I try to justify the falling rain
Then I try to rectify; change what can never be changed.
That’s not to say that change won’t surely rearrange
it all
and I know that there’s no way to say just how
it’s all about to change
but somehow I feel the pain when things don’t go
my way
That’s when I try to justify, justify the
falling rain

–Geoffrey Haun