Pablo Neruda

Sonnet XVII (100 Love Sonnets, 1960)

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

Fire

~ By Teilhard De Chardin

"Some day after we have mastered the winds, the waves and gravity, we will harness for God the energies of love; and then for a second time in the history of the world, humans will have discovered fire."

I savor glimmers of transcendence

By Ruskin Bond

http://www.csmonitor.com/2002/1205/p18s03-hfes.html

December 05, 2002

"If there be a heaven on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this!"

The words are inscribed over the entrance to the Hall of Special Audience, in the royal gardens of the Red Fort of Delhi, built by the Emperor Shah Jehan in the 17th century. It is a beautiful pavilion, the walls inlaid with jade and other semiprecious stones; and from the latticed windows one sees the waters of the river Jumna winding placidly across the plain.

In Shah Jehan's time, the river ran much closer to the fort, and I like to think that the emperor, when he found time, strolled along the ramparts of his palace while it was being built. And one evening, as the emperor gazed at the river, something happened to make him feel at peace with the world. He was so moved by the moment that he decided to build his private pavilion on that spot, inscribing on it those imperishable lines.

Such moments come to most of us - moments when we feel deeply moved or inspired, and when time seems to stand still so that we may savor and preserve in our minds a glimpse of eternity. They come but rarely, these glimmers - raindrops on a sunflower, or the fragrance of the first summer rain on parched earth, the song of the whistling thrush emerging like a sweet secret from a dark forest. Or the joy after hearing a child's laughter: moments when heaven is here, compensating for the irritations and petty disasters humans create around themselves. When all the wars are done, a butterfly will still be beautiful.

When I was only 17, I wanted desperately to be a writer. My early efforts did not meet with much success. No one encouraged me or raised my flagging spirits. At the time I was living with relatives in Jersey, one of the Channel Islands off England, and earning £3 a week as a clerk in a grocery store. Late one evening, when I was feeling particularly discouraged, I went for a walk along the seacoast. The tide was in, the sea was rough; and the wind, which was almost a gale, came pouring out of the darkness like a mad genie just released from his bottle. Great waves crashed against the sea wall, and the wind whipped the salt spray across my face. I felt like a small bird caught in a tempest.

And then something touched me, something from the elements took hold of my heart, and the depression left me. I felt as free and powerful as the wind - quite capable of building my own fort, my own private pavilion of words. And I spoke to the genie in the swirling darkness and called out: "Yes, I will be a writer, and no one's going to stop me!"

Well, more than 40 years later, the writing is still happening, though at times it's still a struggle. But whenever I feel like giving up, I try to recapture that moment when earth and sea and sky were one; and then the writing begins again.

Time, place, and emotion must coalesce, hence the rarity of such occasions. Delight cannot be planned for - it makes no appointments! Almost always, it's the unexpected that brings us joy. It may only be a shaft of sunlight, slanting through the pillars of a banyan tree; or dewdrops caught in a spider's web; or the sudden chatter of a mountain stream as you round the bend of a hill. Or an emperor's first glimpse of a winding river and the world beyond.

5 Minutes for our Planet

L'Alliance Pour La Planète, a group of French environmental organizations, appeals to all people to give our planet a 5-minute break. The initiative “5 Minutes for our Planet,” started in France, but quickly spread via the Internet to the whole world.

Everyone who wants to participate is requested to turn off his or her lights on the 1st of February, 2007 from 7:55 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. local time. It will be like a wave across the planet from East to West.

The L’Alliance says that it's not so much about saving the energy, but about letting citizens, media and political decision-makers focus on the energy that's being wasted and the urgency to take action.

A five-minute break for our planet: it doesn't take all that long and costs nothing.

Why February 1st? It will be the eve of the United Nations Climate-Change Report to be issued in Paris on Friday, February 2nd.

The Power of One can change the world, but as a collective we can make a greater impact.

Please circulate this message.

For more information in French go to L'Alliance Pour La Planète , www.lalliance.fr
For more information in Spanish go to Amigos de la Tierra, www.tierra.org
(No information about this event was found in English).

Pasadena Rose Parade 2007

Here are a few pictures taken on the birth of the New Year -- January 1st -- at the Pasadena Rose Parade 2007.

George Lucas was Parade Grand Marshal:

As the Star Wars movie adventure prepares to celebrate its 30th anniversary in 2007 (the first movie opened in the U.S. on May 25, 1977), the Rose Parade paid tribute to "Star Wars" as the most famous intergalactic adventure in movie history.

"A one-of-a-kind assembly of Star Wars stormtroopers, a marching band and two elaborate floats represented the scope of the Star Wars galaxy," says the HGTV website, and more...

The Parade included the 501st Legion of Stormtroopers, who are among Star Wars' most ardent enthusiasts. The 501st engages in charitable activities while displaying their love of Star Wars through handmade, exacting costume replicas. The 501st was led by no other than Darth Vader himself. These 200 members of the 501st displayed flags of the 36 states and 22 nations that make up this remarkable marching group.

Great picture of the Honda float:

Here's what HGTV's website has to say about it:

"American Honda (#27)
Float Theme: Once Upon a Time

American Honda celebrates the good nature that classically triumphs in fairy tales, fables and internationally renowned festivals such as the Tournament of Roses. Drawing on the lore of good nature battling evil nature in centuries of classic fables and nursery rhymes, American Honda presents a pair of fabulous dragons. Breathing actual fire and smoke, the good dragon soars 50 feet above the parade route to protect a gigantic fairy tale castle from the onslaught of evil. Flames leap nearly 15 feet out of the dragon's mouth, and smoke streams from its nostrils as it engages in an epic moral battle — ensuring that the princess of the castle will live happily ever after. "

I've Been to the Mountaintop

I've Been to the Mountaintop
~ By Martin Luther King

http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/USAmountaintop.htm

April 3, 1968
Memphis, Tennessee

You know, several years ago, I was in New York City autographing the first book that I had written. And while sitting there autographing books, a demented black woman came up. The only question I heard from her was, "Are you Martin Luther King?"

And I was looking down writing, and I said yes. And the next minute I felt something beating on my chest. Before I knew it I had been stabbed by this demented woman. I was rushed to Harlem Hospital. It was a dark Saturday afternoon. And that blade had gone through, and the X-rays revealed that the tip of the blade was on the edge of my aorta, the main artery. And once that's punctured, you drown in your own blood--that's the end of you.

It came out in the New York Times the next morning, that if I had sneezed, I would have died. Well, about four days later, they allowed me, after the operation, after my chest had been opened, and the blade had been taken out, to move around in the wheel chair in the hospital. They allowed me to read some of the mail that came in, and from all over the states, and the world, kind letters came in. I read a few, but one of them I will never forget. I had received one from the President and the Vice-President. I've forgotten what those telegrams said. I'd received a visit and a letter from the Governor of New York, but I've forgotten what the letter said. But there was another letter that came from a little girl, a young girl who was a student at the White Plains High School. And I looked at that letter, and I'll never forget it. It said simply, "Dear Dr. King: I am a ninth-grade student at the Whites Plains High School." She said, "While it should not matter, I would like to mention that I am a white girl. I read in the paper of your misfortune, and of your suffering. And I read that if you had sneezed, you would have died. And I'm simply writing you to say that I'm so happy that you didn't sneeze."

And I want to say tonight, I want to say that I am happy that I didn't sneeze. Because if I had sneezed, I wouldn't have been around here in 1960, when students all over the South started sitting-in at lunch counters. And I knew that as they were sitting in, they were really standing up for the best in the American dream. And taking the whole nation back to those great wells of democracy which were dug deep by the Founding Fathers in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. If I had sneezed, I wouldn't have been around in 1962, when Negroes in Albany, Georgia, decided to straighten their backs up. And whenever men and women straighten their backs up, they are going somewhere, because a man can't ride your back unless it is bent. If I had sneezed, I wouldn't have been here in 1963, when the black people of Birmingham, Alabama, aroused the conscience of this nation, and brought into being the Civil Rights Bill. If I had sneezed, I wouldn't have had a chance later that year, in August, to try to tell America about a dream that I had had. If I had sneezed, I wouldn't have been down in Selma, Alabama, to see the great movement there. If I had sneezed, I wouldn't have been in Memphis to see a community rally around those brothers and sisters who are suffering. I'm so happy that I didn't sneeze.

And they were telling me, now it doesn't matter now. It really doesn't matter what happens now. I left Atlanta this morning, and as we got started on the plane, there were six of us, the pilot said over the public address system, "We are sorry for the delay, but we have Dr. Martin Luther King on the plane. And to be sure that all of the bags were checked, and to be sure that nothing would be wrong with the plane, we had to check out everything carefully. And we've had the plane protected and guarded all night."

And then I got into Memphis. And some began to say that threats, or talk about the threats that were out. What would happen to me from some of our sick white brothers?

Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.

Quote By Maya Angelou

"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty."

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

http://www.nytimes.com/books/98/01/18/home/king-oslo.html

December 11, 1964

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Oslo, Norway

Your Majesty, your Royal Highness, Mr. President, excellencies,
ladies and gentlemen:

I accept the Nobel prize for peace at a moment when 22 million
Negroes of the United States of America are engaged in a creative
battle to end the long night of racial injustice. I accept this award
in behalf of a civil rights movement which is moving with
determination and a majestic scorn for risk and danger to establish a
reign of freedom and a rule of justice.

I am mindful that only yesterday in Birmingham, Ala., our children,
crying out for brotherhood, were answered with fire hoses, snarling
dogs and even death. I am mindful that only yesterday in
Philadelphia, Miss., young people seeking to secure the right to vote
were brutalized and murdered.

I am mindful that debilitating and grinding poverty afflicts my
people and chains them to the lowest rung of the economic ladder.

Therefore, I must ask why this prize is awarded to a movement which
is beleaguered and committed to unrelenting struggle: to a
movement which has not won the very peace and brotherhood
which is the essence of the Nobel prize.

After contemplation, I conclude that this award which I received on
behalf of that movement is profound recognition that nonviolence is
the answer to the crucial political and moral question of our time--
the need for man to overcome oppression and violence without
resorting to violence and oppression.

Civilization and violence are antithetical concepts. Negroes of the
United States, following the people of India, have demonstrated that
nonviolence is not sterile passivity, but a powerful moral force
which makes for social transformation. Sooner or later, all the
people of the world will have to discover a way to live together in
peace, and thereby transform this pending cosmic elegy into a
creative psalm of brotherhood.

If this is to be achieved, man must evolve for all human conflict a
method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The
foundation of such a method is love.

The tortuous road which has led from Montgomery, Ala., to Oslo
bears witness to this truth. This is a road over which millions
of Negroes are traveling to find a new sense of dignity. This
same road has opened for all Americans a new era of progress
and hope....

A PRAYER IN NEW ENGLAND

~ by Ramson Lomatewama (Silent Winds - Poetry of a Hopi)



I am alone

yet

in the presence of the creator.

I feel the creation force that surrounds me.

I am a part of it.



Hear me, you who stands alone.

I have come to talk.

Be at peace, for I come with a humble heart.

I am one among you.



Spruce trees

you are strong

you are quiet

your branches outstreched.

the clouds rest on your branches.



I am I

a part of nature

a part of your creation.

Hear me. You who guides the life path.

Let the spruce trees bear witness.



I ask for wisdom

for the sake of our children.

I ask for quidance

for the sake of mine own.

Lead me in the days to come.



For I am I.



Your servant.

Nothing But Love

~ By Mother Teresa of Calcutta

"Let's concentrate on a worthwhile goal...That no child be unwanted,
that no person go unloved. And let's not stop smiling at whomever we
meet, especially when it's hard to smile."
"It is easy to love those who are far away. It isn't always easy to
love those who are right next to us. It is easier to offer a dish of
rice to satisfy the hunger of a poor person, than to fill up the
loneliness and suffering of someone lacking love in our own family."
"How can you love God whom you do not see, if you don't love the
neighbor whom you do see--the neighbor you know and live with every
day?"

"The fruit of Silence is Prayer.
The fruit of Prayer is Faith.
The fruit of Faith is Love.
The fruit of Love is Service.
The fruit of Service is Peace."

"The fullness of our heart is expressed in our eyes, in our touch, in
what we write, in what we say, in the way we walk, the way we
receive, the way we need. That is the fullness of our heart
expressing itself in many different ways."

"Spread love everywhere you go:
First of all in your own house.
Give love to your children,
To your wife or husband,
To your next door neighbor.
Let no one come to you without leaving better or happier.
Be the living expression of God's kindness; kindness in your face,
kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile, and kindness in your
warm greeting."

Patience

~ By Paramahansa Yogananda

Let us forget the sorrows of the past and make up our minds not to dwell on them in the New
Year. With determination and unflinching will, let us renew our lives, our good habits, and our
successes. If the last year has been hopelessly bad, the New Year must be hopefully good.

The Power of Non-Violence

~ By Dr. Arun Gandhi, grandson of Mahatma Gandhi (founder of
the M.K.Gandhi Institute for Non-Violence), in his June 9 lecture at
the University of Puerto Rico.


I was 16 years old and living with my parents at the
institute my grandfather had founded 18 miles outside of
Durban, South Africa, in the middle of the sugar plantations.
We were deep in the country and had no neighbors, so my
two sisters and I would always look forward to going to town
to visit friends or go to the movies.

One day, my father asked me to drive him to town for an
all-day conference, and I jumped at the chance. Since I was
going to town, my mother gave me a list of groceries she
needed and, since I had all day in town, my father asked me
to take care of several pending chores, such as getting the car
serviced.

When I dropped my father off that morning, he said, "I will
meet you here at 5:00 p.m., and we will go home together."
After hurriedly completing my chores, I went straight to
the nearest movie theatre. I got so engrossed in a John
Wayne double-feature that I forgot the time. It was 5:30
before I remembered. By the time I ran to the garage and
got the car and hurried to where my father was waiting for
me, it was almost 6:00.

He anxiously asked me, "Why were you late?"

I was so ashamed of telling him I was watching a John Wayne
western movie that I said, "The car wasn't ready, so I had
to wait," not realizing that he had already called the
garage.

When he caught me in the lie, he said: "There's something
wrong in the way I brought you up that didn't give you
the confidence to tell me the truth. In order to figure out
where I went wrong with you, I'm going to walk home 18 miles
and think about it."

So, dressed in his suit and dress shoes, he began to walk
home in the dark on mostly unpaved, unlit roads.

I couldn't leave him, so for five-and-a-half hours I drove
behind him, watching my father go through this agony for a
stupid lie that I uttered. I decided then and there that I
was never going to lie again. I often think about that
episode and wonder, if he had punished me the way we punish
our children, whether I would have learned a lesson at all.
I don't think so. I would have suffered the punishment and
gone on doing the same thing. But this single non-violent
action was so powerful that it is still as if it happened
yesterday. That is the power of non-violence.

The Day Flies Off Without Me

~ By John Stammers

The planes bound for all points everywhere
etch lines on my office window.
From the top floor London recedes in all directions, and beyond:
the world with its teeming hearts.

I am still, you move, I am a point of reference on a map;
I am at zero meridian as you consume the longitudes.
The pact we made to read our farewells exactly
at two in the afternoon with you in the air
holds me like a heavy winter coat.

Your unopened letter is in my pocket, beating.

I Need Air

~ By Alan Lerner
(from the musical 'The Little Prince', based on the book by Antoine St. Exupery)

I could see it wasn't worth
Spending time with them on earth.
There were fewer in the sky.
I decided I would fly.
I need air...

Where only stars get in my hair:
And only eagles stop and stare.
I need air.

Oh, the work is mad
And I've had my share.
I need air.
I need air.
I need air...

There's not a sign of life down there.
Just hats and grown-ups everywhere.
I need air.

Lots of cosy sky
That God and I can share.
I need air.
I need air.

Reality

~ By Albert Einstein

"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."

The Way of Truth and Love

~ By Mahatma Gandhi

"Whenever I despair, I remember that the way of truth and love has always won. There may be tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they may seem invincible, but in the end, they always fail. Think of it: always."

The Power of Invisible People

~ By Steve Roberts*

This Easter Sunday, April 16, 2006, is the 40th birthday of my younger son, whom I've never met. And it's more than possible that I never will. Yet, he is one of many people whose invisible presence continually encourages me to pay attention to who I am.

There are a number of old cellar holes on our farm. They date back well over a century and represent lives I can only imagine. I daydream of walking across America without a nickel. It's an expression of my heart's calling to give myself completely to the moment, moving through every fear of lack and need. Obviously I
needn't wear out a dozen pair of boots to achieve that goal. Still, I'm aware that if I actually did embark on such a pilgrimage, demanding as it might be, it wouldn't compare to the challenges faced by those who, 200 years ago, attempted to survive on a Vermont mountainside.

The most conspicuous of these early settler foundations—the remnants of a home and barn—is part of a several acre sweep of pasture and orchard in which, over the past few years, I have built an ever- growing family of sculptures out of stone. Among my motivations, I've discovered as I go, is honoring all who were stewards of this
land before I and my family took on the job. I know the names of virtually none of those who precede me, just as I don't know the name of my younger son, since at birth he was given up for adoption. However, what I feel in relationship to both them and him is gratitude for their part in deepening my connection to the entire
human family.

Please don't confuse my stone whatchamacallits with the creative expressions of artists like Vermont's Dan Snow, a master at building in stone without mortar. The Greek philosopher Pythagoras called a stone frozen music. That makes Dan Snow a composer of symphonies so jaw droppingly beautiful, if I were 30 not 60 I'd pester him like a drunken mosquito to let me be his apprentice. Fortunately, like just
about everything else in life, I don't have to know a whole lot about stones to experience the joy of playing with them.

As it is, Dan and I have never met, though that doesn't prevent me from feeling his influence. Patience, attunement, playfulness—these are but a few of the qualities his creations evoke in me as I dabble in my own frozen music.

Being an author draws to me the responses of untold numbers of people I'll never meet in person, every one of them a gift, believe it or not—even those who think I'm nuts.

Through these many so-called strangers, the universe showers me with kindness, one form of which is an occasional fat wink that sends a chill up my spine.

My younger biological son was born in a New York State village located about half way between Rochester and Syracuse. Some 20 years later in a Rochester restaurant, a waiter of college age approached me and said, "Boy, I've got a friend in Syracuse who looks just like you."

Then, about five years ago two friends of mine were having lunch in Amherst, Massachusetts (the home of my beloved alma mater, it so happens), when they became transfixed by another patron who was a youthful clone of me down to the way he walked, sat, gestured and ran his fingers through his hair.

I wish many things for this man whose invisible presence graces my life, including that he too hears the universe whispering: "Hello, playmate."


* Steve Roberts is the author of Cool Mind Warm Heart, a collection of essays, stories, and photographs of stone sculptures he builds on his Vermont farm. He can be found on the web at CoolMindWarmHeart.com and at TheHeartOfTheEarth.com.

Consolation for Tamar

~ By A. E. Stallings*

(on the occasion of her breaking an ancient pot)

You know I am no archeologist, Tamar,
And that to me it is all one dust or another.
Still, it must mean something to survive the weather
Of the Ages-earthquake, flood, and war-

Only to shatter in your very hands.
Perhaps it was gravity, or maybe fated-
Although I wonder if it had not waited
Those years in drawers, aeons in distant lands,

And in your fingers' music, just a little
Was emboldened by your blood, and so forgot
That it was not a rosebud, but a pot,
And, trying to unfold for you, was brittle.


* More on this accomplished young poet at:
http://www.geocities.com/aestallings/

When I have Fears that I may Cease to Be

~ By John Keats

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;--then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

Happiness

~ By Epictetus (55-135)*

"There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will."

* Even though he was born a slave in Hierapolis and endured a permanent physical disability, Epictetus held that all human beings are perfectly free to control their lives and to live in harmony with nature. After intense study of the traditional Stoic curriculum (established by Zeno of Citium and Chrysippus) of logic, physics, and ethics, Epictetus spent his entire career teaching philosophy and promoting a daily regime of rigorous self-examination. He eventually gained his freedom, but was exiled from Rome by Domitian in 89.(http://www.philosophypages.com/ph/epit.htm)