Your poetry arises by itself when you and the object
have become one, when you have plunged deep enough
into the object to see something like a hidden light
glimmering there…
~ Matsuo Basho
Your poetry arises by itself when you and the object
have become one, when you have plunged deep enough
into the object to see something like a hidden light
glimmering there…
~ Matsuo Basho
or an interaction of Things—that leaves us emotionally unsettled: perhaps long held perspectives are challenged… or long unfelt senses are suddenly excited. The roots of our reaction often lie deep within our unconscious—making them imperceptible to our everyday awareness. Yet, such sensory disturbances often hold remarkable spiritual and
creative blessings.
They sweep over the glades looking for death, and eat it,
to make it vanish, to make of it the miracle: resurrection…
~ Mary Oliver
They sweep over the glades looking for death, and eat it,
to make it vanish, to make of it the miracle: resurrection…
~ Mary Oliver
By choosing to explore our experience through poetry, we ritually surrender it to our creative imagination—which views the experience through a very different lens than that of our day-to-day perspectives. As our imagination explores the experience, seemingly conflicting elements may effortlessly form loving relationships… unexpected insights may arise from a mist of confusion… and mythic correspondences may spontaneously announce themselves.
Flesh surrendered by Spirit as sun seeks solitude of night
And night opens to sun after a long nourishing sleep…
~ Ronald Keith Salmon
Flesh surrendered by Spirit as sun seeks solitude of night
And night opens to sun after a long nourishing sleep…
~ Ronald Keith Salmon
rhymes and rhythms… that animates our poem with the breath of Life. And—within this living and breathing poem—the True Nature of our experience stands revealed…
Imagine now yourself as the lost…
on this landscape of trails…
this criss upon cross… unable to choose…
realizing—at last—life not yours left to lose…
~ Ronald Keith Salmon
Imagine now yourself as the lost…
on this landscape of trails…
this criss upon cross… unable to choose…
realizing—at last—life not yours left to lose…
~ Ronald Keith Salmon