Saturday, September 5, 2009

Labor Day

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It is funny how the occasion imperceptibly changes, like the light, at an inconstant rate. At any given glance you may see that the dog has rolled over in his sleep, or the trees have lost their leaves. Morning drains inexpressibly into lunchtime, or Christmastime. Overhead the geese are migrating, just as they were the last time you looked. You wash the dishes, turn around, and it is summer again, or some other time, or time to go.

Teaching a Stone to Talk,
Annie Dillard
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Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The weight of the world Is love

"The weight of the world
Is love
Under the burden
Of solitude
Under the burden
Of dissatisfaction

The weight
The weight we carry
Is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
It touches
The body,
In thought
Constructs
A miracle,
Its imagination
Anguishes
Till born
In human
Looks out of the heart
Burning with purity--
For the burden of life
Is love."

from Song~Allan Ginsberg

: loveology