Each time we write, we violate nature with a small, silent weapon:the pause.We stop, sometimes just for a minute,to notice, consider or describe,but the planet spins on undeterred, or maybe, amused.The universe is uninterested in the time-stopping attempts of humans:photography, archaeology, the study of history.It forges ahead, concealing, burying, repeating what it has done before.Yet… Continue reading Sheryl Abbey
And what is the best time for remembering? At noon when shadows are hidden beneath our feet, or at twilight when shadows lengthen like longings that have no beginning, no end, like God? — Yehuda Amichai, from “And Who Will Remember the Rememberers?,” Open Closed Open (Mariner Books, 2006) 998)
And as we stray further from lovewe multiply the words,words and sentences so long and orderly.Had we remained togetherwe could have become a silence. —Yehuda Amichai, from “Quick And Bitter” Poems of Jerusalem and Love Poems. (Sheep Meadow,1992)
I want to be filled with longing againtill dark burn marks show on my skin. I want to be written againin the Book of Life, to be written every single daytill the writing hand hurts. —Yehuda Amichai, from “I Walked Past a House Where I Lived Once,” Art & Love. An Illustrated Anthology of Love… Continue reading Yehuda Amichai
And it is written in the book that we shall not fear.And it is written that we too shall change,like the words,in future and in past,in plural and in loneliness. — Yehuda Amichai, from “From Summer or Its End,” The Selected Poetry of Yehuda Amichai. (University of California Press; Exp Rev Re edition February 15,… Continue reading Yehuda Amichai
In the Middle of This Century In the middle of this century we turned to each other With half faces and full eyes like an ancient Egyptian picture And for a short while. I stroked your hair In the opposite direction to your journey, We called to each other, Like calling out the names of… Continue reading Yehuda Amichai
In the Middle of This Century In the middle of this century we turned to each other With half faces and full eyes like an ancient Egyptian picture And for a short while. I stroked your hair In the opposite direction to your journey, We called to each other, Like calling out the names of… Continue reading Yehuda Amichai
The Vale of Soul-Making 