Connecting Dreams with Action
“Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.”
–Anais Nin
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What is poetry for?
“Poetry is words on a page nibbling at the edge of something vast.” –Nebraska’s less-well-known poet laureate, William Kloefkorn (Suggested by Susan J. Tweit) Biography William Kloefkorn was named Nebraska Poet Laureate in 1982 and held that distinction for more than a decade. Often called “the Garrison Keillor of contemporary American poetry,” Kloefkorn’s poetry collections…
BIRTHING ALL OUR LIVES–Wisdom from Antin (1912) & Albert (1997)
“We are not born all at once, but by bits. The body first, and the spirit later; and the birth and growth of the spirit, in those who are attentive to their own inner life, are slow and exceedingly painful. Our mothers are racked with the pains of our physical birth; we ourselves suffer the…
Hardworking Roses: abundance and generosity multiply like rose petals
You’ll recall I received two dozen roses this Valentine’s Day. As it turns out, both bouquets were from one man, my sweetheart of yore, my dear-hearted friend of now, Daniel Holland, of Lake County in Northern California. As it turns out, Daniel ordered one dozen roses and Fortune multiplied his order by two. The arithmetic…
Roses on your pillow at Hotel Carlton (from the hands of Theo McKinney)
That “30th anniversary” picture represents the usual welcome I like to surprise visitors with when they come to town to celebrate a honeymoon or romantic anniversary; the petals are real, and, whenever I can find out secretly in advance what the actual wedding flowers were, I try my best to get that flower and color…
Roses in the Refrigerator, Day After Valentine’s Day
The day after Valentine’s Day one bouquet of roses rises tall on my kitchen counter (the long-stems). The shorter-stems reside on a refrigerator shelf, extending their life (shelf life?) and making me glad everytime I open the refrigerator door.
“Appetite” for My Mother, Ruth Evelyn Johnston Thompson
Mother died at 90 last May Day. It seems like an ocean of time and then, hardly any time at all. You can read more about my mother on the “Sightlines” portion of this site on the Sweet Little Dove page including: * Ruth Thompson Life Story * Mother’s Memorial Service And the poems: *Under…