Monday, February 28, 2005

Purple Monday

Stretch your toes up to the sun, to the stars. Open the black night and find deepest primrose inside. There are undiscovered moons. The eyes of evening stretched, squinting: we cannot be seen in the dusk of dreams. Urgent silence. Where have you been walking tonight?

You can see the wrens fluttering their wings, truth beating through the fierce wind, the coy sun. Their voices sound like ghosts and they're laughing. Bring your knife: we will press palm to palm and commingle our histories. White daisies all over the meadow, pinks and heliotrope, violets, phlox, wild roses. Regret nothing. The truth may be inscribed only once.


Now reading: The Elephants of Style by Bill Walsh: a style and usage manual from a Washington Post copy chief; The Courage to Teach by Parker J. Palmer: a meditation on what teaching really means and also the base text for the teaching diamond I belong to; The Birth of Venus by Sarah Dunant: a fascinating novel about fifteenth-century Florence.

Waiting to read The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less, The Dance of Anger, and The Return of Merlin. Et vous? Recommendations are always welcome.

New(ish) listening: How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb by U2 and The Beekeeper by Tori Amos. Listen deep.

"Peace is all around us. In our world and in nature and within us, in our bodies and our spirits. Once we learn to touch this peace, we will be healed and transformed. It is not a matter of faith, it is a matter of practice." —Thich Nhat Han

With love,
the queen of cups

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