Friday, June 3, 2016

Stoned



I have discovered the poetry of Wendell Berry. If you like your poetry straight from the shoulder, wholesomely explicit, in a love affair with nature, and expressly literate, borrow one of his books and take a look.

Here’s a taste:

“I owned a slope full of stones.
Like buried pianos they lay in the ground…
an old music mute in them…
I broke them…and lifted them in pieces.
As I piled them in the light
I began their music…
The stones have given me music…
They have taught me the weariness that loves the ground…”

From “The Stones” in New Collected Poems by Wendell Berry


I step right into the breach here. I suppose stones have distinct personae, each one unique, durable, resisting almost every change except a change of place—and that’s good guidance for all of us, most days….

Cleave to your loves and your plans and your special pleasures and your sense of the right things, but don’t miss an opportunity to go to a new place and find out how you can be you there.








Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2016 All rights reserved.

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