Notes: Projects
To make a prairie, it takes a clover and one bee, -
one clover and a bee,
and reverie.
And reverie alone will do
if bees are few.
Emily Dickinson, from Selected Poems & Letters of Emily Dickinson, Robert N. Liscott, ed., Doubleday Anchor, 1959, page 204. “Reverie” is “revery” in the original.
Flowers in the garden earlier today, 1 September 2014.

Flowers in the garden earlier today, 1 September 2014.

Some notes on the season.

Barn entry hall.

Barn entry hall.

The view just now - Labor Day 2014 around 12:25 p.m.

The view just now - Labor Day 2014 around 12:25 p.m.

Kronos

A road, we call it, a path, but river -
as Heraclitus suggested - feels right.
Yet how slow it often moves, a sliver
of life at a time, fluid yet so slight
it falls beneath notice half the time, gone
from consciousness. What carries us along?
we ask ourselves. Is this a boat we’re on?
Who guides it? The words of a sailor’s song
mix with that of mermaids, sirens whose breasts
are like the hills that skirt the river’s edge.
Garlanded, they push and pull, plot their tests
of bravado for the men on the ledge.

They’re up there too, sometimes, shedding a fin,
then half drowned - payment for their plunging in.

Shadow

A shady figure, some would argue. Won’t
get no denial from me. This is Jung’s
territory, so why deny it? Don’t
think I’m gonna. “I like it when she comes” -
now there’s a phrase to warm a liar’s heart.
And God knows deception’s my middle name.
Yes, keeping a straight face, playing the part -
the shady life’s not easy; a long game
if you can keep it going, and I did,
waiting by the telephone, cooling heels
out on the road, staying low and well hid,
reading the racing forms and copping feels.

"It’s all too much. I am a slave." No more.
The pledge: Nobody’s fool, nobody’s whore.

The Mystery of Rebirth.

The Mystery of Rebirth.