Wednesday, April 4, 2012
“…the seeing depends ever on the being…”
Thoreau in his Writer’s Journal
The ivy bends the light into green arrows
and trails itself in time from its dark roots
arrow by arrow into greener life.
Each preference stirs a pulsing dynamo
of heart-beat, light-wave, turning each impulse
wholly toward what it is, the being, true,
communing through mysterious preferences,
unswerving as a bee hailed by its flowers,
seeming erratic, choosing and forgetting,
retracing its cross-pollinating flight,
the field of choice a providence of light.
–Ellen Murphy CSJ