The Guest House - Persian Poet ` Rumi -
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of all its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
She/he may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond. - Rumi -
The photo was taken in Lunenberg, Nova Scotia. CA.
They create Scare-Crows and Perform Music Concerts.
Neurotic in July - Marge Piercy - ( She's a good morn read. )
Even desk and tables have edges sharp
as the blade of a guillotine today.
The wind gnashes its teeth in the oaks.
The transcendent pearl fog of mourning
is tarnished with my fear. One friend
dies at home in whatever pitted dignity
pain allows. Another friend lies dying
while doctors in the hall mumble
their lies unsanctified as white lab rats.
Another comes out of a comma that almost
killed him, mischance exploding in the hands,
while in high glittery summer out on Route 6
tourist try to drive through each other's
bodies. The rescue squad drags their fatigue
to the third accident today, broken
glass and broken organs, the stench
of spilled gas and blood.
I jerk with anxiety, the reflexes
of a severed tail. Straw and sleet I am.
My thoughts spill, the contents of a dash
board astray, butts, roaches, seeds,
cores, bottlecaps. What I dream stinks.
Only in political rage I scorn danger.
In daily life I quiver like a mass of frog's
eggs. Quaking I carry my breasts before
me like ripe figs a thumb could bruise
and, 'Be Careful! Be Careful!' I croon
all day like a demented cuckoo with only
one harsh plaintive cry to those I love.
They pay no attention at all but wander
freely in and out of danger like sanderlings
feeding on the edge of the ocean as the tide
changes, chasing after each wave as it recedes,
racing before as the wave rushes back. - Piercy
( The Inspiration @ Open Salon is great. Amazing )
There's no drought. Thoughts came today - Poems -