I begin an extended Sabbath tomorrow morning with a three-day retreat. It has been a productive week and it feels good to take a break from the reading and writing.
I came across this poem by James Wright yesterday. It speaks about the gifts and blessings I miss when I are not attentive. Part of the progress has been a result of good conversations which, at every turn, seem to add something new to the thinking needed to move forward. By looking at what is there, I find what I search for and blossom.
Just off the highway to Rochester Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken within kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tuffs of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is as delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
Teacher as Transformer 