I feel my boots trying to leave the ground, I feel my heart pumping hard. I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbably beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings. — Mary Oliver, from “Starlings In Winter,” Owls… Continue reading Mary Oliver
I looked at you with all the light and the darkness I possess. — Giorgos Seferis, from “Summer Solstice,” Collected Poems (Princeton University Press, 1969)
Outside, the wind tears at the trees; Dark comes into the room like a stranger And we are touched by a huge loneliness. — May Sarton, from “Landscape Pursued by a Cloud,” Collected Poems: 1930–1993. (W. W. Norton & Company; First edition May 17, 1993)
Do not mourn the dead. They know what they are doing. ― Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star. (New Directions; Reissue edition February 17, 1992) Originally published January 1st 1975.
Notice What This Poem Is Not Doing The light along the hills in the morning comes down slowly, naming the trees white, then coasting the ground for stones to nominate. Notice what this poem is not doing. A house, a house, a barn, the old quarry, where the river shrugs— how much of this place… Continue reading William Stafford
I think that the most empowering and healing thing any of us can do is to remind ourselves that we aren’t alone in what we’re going through. That feeling what we feel and hurting in this way doesn’t make us weak or crazy or inadequate. But that it makes us human. That having these longings… Continue reading Daniell Koepke
But as the dark flows in The tree frogs begin Their shrill sweet singing, And we lie on our beds Through the ecstatic night, Wide awake, cracked open. There will be no going back. —May Sarton, from “April in Maine,” Collected Poems (W.W. Norton & Company, 1993)
I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning. — Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. (KNOPF.; First Edition edition 1997)