Temet Nosce (Know Thyself)

This page exists as what used to be known as a "Commonplace Book" for the purpose of maintaining a log of the poetry and philosophy that inspires and propels much of my own thought and writing, and to share, with fellow sojourners, a collection of the beauty and wisdom of kindred souls throughout time. My hope is that we will collectively work towards the goal of a deep and sustaining self-knowledge that will, then, inspire and guide us to pursue beauty, peace and justice in our world.

“He who cannot draw on three thousand years is living from hand to mouth.”

~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe



Friday, May 11, 2018

At The River Clarion by Mary Oliver

I don’t know who God is exactly.
But I’ll tell you this.
I was sitting in the river named Clarion, on a water splashed stone
and all afternoon I listened to the voices of the river talking….
And slowly, very slowly, it became clear to me what they were saying.
Said the river I am part of holiness.
And I too, said the stone. And I too, whispered the moss beneath the water.
I’d been to the river before, a few times.
Don’t blame the river that nothing happened quickly.
You don’t hear such voices in an hour or a day.
You don’t hear them at all if selfhood has stuffed your ears.
And it’s difficult to hear anything anyway, through
all the traffic, the ambition.
~ Mary Oliver, "At the River Clarion"

I'm heading home to Detroit now--back over the Bridge in the wind, hoping it holds me up as it's always done in so many ways over 58 years. This poem adroitly captures the essence of the time spent here--the last few days, yes, but the lifetime: ..."I'd been to the river before, a few times. Don't blame the river that nothing happened quickly. You don't hear such voices in an hour, or a day..."
Everything takes as long as it takes and what I know is that the present moment, the person in front of you, the love that is, the child's gaze, the wave--that one right there that just landed on the beach is the only one. 
May 2013/May 2018