Inside This Clay Jug Inside this clay jug there are canyons and pine mountains, and the maker of canyons and pine mountains! All seven oceans are inside, and hundreds of millions of stars. The magic stone that turns base metal...
Suddenly or subtly there’s a blast that surrounds you or descends on you, thoughts vanish, the bottom drops out beneath your feet, the surround like a tidal wave blasts everything away. And for a moment or moments, however long it...
The verse from this Hafez poem that struck me most was, “Even if the flood of materialism drowns everything, do not sink into sadness, because Noah is your captain.” We each need to build our own ark to carry us...
The moon is a metaphor—it reflects light, it illuminates the darkness, and it looks to us as if it suddenly appears from nothing, grows to fullness, and then wanes until it’s completely gone. Yet no matter how it looks, the...
In this incredible poem, Zbigniew Herbert begs to find what actually is, not a description, not a metaphor, but the actual essence. He knows there’s something, an actuality of what he is and how he exists, but he can’t put...
Who Says Words With My Mouth? All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere,...
There is meaning, intrinsic meaning, in every moment.
