spirit

Love-Lily

Gill Washington Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Love, Poems, Spirituality , , , 0 Comment

By Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Between the hands, between the brows,
Between the lips of Love-Lily,
A spirit is born whose birth endows
My blood with fire to burn through me;
Who breathes upon my gazing eyes,
Who laughs and murmurs in mine ear,
At whose least touch my colour flies,
And whom my life grows faint to hear.

Within the voice, within the heart,
Within the mind of Love-Lily,
A spirit is born who lifts apart
His tremulous wings and looks at me;
Who on my mouth his finger lays,
And shows, while whispering lutes confer,
That Eden of Love’s watered ways
Whose winds and spirits worship her.

Brows, hands, and lips, heart, mind, and voice,
Kisses and words of Love-Lily,–
Oh! bid me with your joy rejoice
Till riotous longing rest in me!
Ah! let not hope be still distraught,
But find in her its gracious goal,
Whose speech Truth knows not from her thought
Nor Love her body from her soul.

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The Lovers

Gill Washington Poems, Rainer Maria Rilke, Spirituality , , 0 Comment

By Rainer Maria Rilke

See how in their veins all becomes spirit:
into each other they mature and grow.
Like axles, their forms tremblingly orbit,
round which it whirls, bewitching and aglow.
Thirsters, and they receive drink,
watchers, and see: they receive sight.
Let them into one another sink
so as to endure each other outright.

Translator unknown

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Write it on your heart…

Gill Washington Poems, Ralph Waldo Emerson , , , 0 Comment

 
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Write it on your heart
that every day is the best day in the year.
He is rich who owns the day,
and no one owns the day
who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.
Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.
Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt, crept in.
Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a
new day;
begin it well and serenely,
with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense.
This new day is too dear, with its hopes and invitations,
to waste a moment on the yesterdays…

Beautiful Mystery

Gill Washington Hydeh Aubon, Poems , , 0 Comment

My tears, since
I’ve known pain,
must have fallen
on your shoulders.
In the heart of eternal
loneliness, in the midst
of fear, in the labyrinth
of finding “the way”,
I’ve come to know
that there is no answer
and this has to be a
beautiful mystery.
Everything changes,
everything has changed,
everything will change.
I’ve felt you
in different seasons of my life:
the happy beginning of spring,
the majestic color and shapes
of what I could see and
what I couldn’t but imagined.
The giving summer,
the poetic autumn
and the quiet winter.
How could I ever trap
you in an image or
a notion?
You, the mystery
in the vein of life
the vein of being.
How could I assume any
shape for you when
my limitless spirit runs wild
and has none?

Hydeh Aubon (3/27/09)