i was wandering through
my summer photo folders
hmmmming and oh yeahing
as i saw the skies
and especially all the clouds.
i came across some photographs
of two little clouds.
i remember them
well
because they disappeared shortly afterwards.
which got me thinking
and looking
and
lo and behold
there were some words.
wrapped.
in a hug of skin
no less complex than that which wraps 'round my own body -
and no less fragile.
i found myself starstruck by
the gossamer threads of knowing
braided
in this incredible poem
by
e.e. cummings.
)when what hugs stopping earth than silent is
more silent than more than much more is or
total sun oceaning than any this
tear jumping from each most least eye of star
and without was if minus and shall be
immeasurable happenless unnow
shuts more than open could that every tree
or than all life more death begins to grow
end's ending then these dolls of joy and grief
these recent memories of future dream
these perhaps who have lost their shadows if
which did not do the losing spectres mime
until out of merely not nothing comes
only one snowflake (and we speak our names
ee cummings
oh my.
25 comments:
the photos are awesome! and e.e. cummings, one of my very favorite poets. few poets can put words together and create the emotion and feeling he was able to do.
clouds do have a way of making you feel you are wrapped in a big hug. nature just has a way about it...
xoxo
Hi Steven
There are clouds upon the universal mind..
I was observing speeding clouds last night in a windy sky
while I down below
in the wallum in stillness stood...
The line that seems to suit your two quiet clouds
is that:
'more silent than much more silent is....'
Happy days
hello sixpence, thankyou. i remembe reading ym first cummings poem in high school. a teacher had seen my own writing and gave me a collection of cumming's work. i was a lost boy for some time after that!!!! he writes like i think. which is something i find really difficult - writing like i think that is!!!! thanks for your visit and have a peaceful day. steven
delwyn - you're very right about that!! clouds are evidence of the big breathing our atmosphere does - physically and spiritually. i love that choice of lines for the little clouds - they were so very little delwyn. steven
One wonders what really makes clouds so interesting. Mom used to say thunder was god bowling and rain was god crying. I suspect she had something to say about clouds too but I don't remember.
good morning abe, i'm not sure i can answer that definitively outside of their natural aesthetic appeal. they are in a state of constant transformation and so are interesting to watch. i guess too they are a simple and engaging element of nature that is reminding of the planet's big systems at work. thanks for dropping by. steven
e.e. cummings wraps wisdom in words. I am left with thoughts about stillness - just as important as solitude.
thanks steven.
I wonder why we find clouds so fascinating. I never tire of them.
How did he do it? ee cummings, I mean. Wow, what a poem, and what beautiful ephemeral clouds.
You had such a wonderful summer, didn't you?
Your second picture is a seriously N.C. Wyeth sky. Oh yeah!!!
Love, love the Hal Borland quote.
They look as if they are dancing together, like little kids do when they hug. :)
When you get a chance, there's an Award for you on my blog.
Funny, I was going through some pics of summer myself on the weekend. I have a ton of cloud pics myself.
I love this post Steven!
I love them too. Someplaces don't participate enough. They deluge here. Would love to chase the little guy, watch him grow up. Gasped, to see one 'just appear'. Magic. On top of...I just know you can bounce on them.
"..merely not nothing comes...
sending you hugs.
Makes a change from Wordsworth's wanderings :)
Cloud spotter's guide, anyone?
Love the quote!
watching the puffy clouds is just wonderful...the best things in life are sometimes free!
hi bonnie - i feel a kaleidoscopic vision of this world when i read cummings. a letting in of all the myriad points of perspective and understanding. i feel a kinship with him for that. thankyou for visiting. steven
hi ellen, i dunno. i lift my head every time i walk out of a building. what's up with the the what's up? i'm rarely disappointed. today there's a honking big wind and the clouds are getting torn at the low down altitudes while up high they're cool and calm and fragmented but in an orderly sort of way. wow. steven
hi reya - i'm glad to see you up and out here on your wanderings! i had a really sweet summer. it had lots of what i am learning to love. it had little inklings of what i need to be more of. have a sweet dc evening. steven
hello willow (x2)! really good wyeth sky and the borland quote jumped out at me so i pegged it in orange (like the leaves) and let it stand. it rocks!!! have a lovely eve at the manor. steven
hi hope - it's funny you should say that because i happened on a lovely kindie scene today at school - two little 'uns dancing together as their teacher played recorder. it was pure magic. i thought - why is that lost on adults? that's pure dance, pure love, pure magic!!!!! sweet. i'll have a little bit of a visit over to your blog later hope. steven
hey liza - well the weather here has turned so much into autumn that the wistfulness i felt earlier is all but gone. this is really autumn. ten celsius during the day with rain squalls every couple of hours. tough on my body on the bike but also really fun!!!! share some summer pics and warm us all up liza!!!! steven
hello verily - it's lovely to see you 'round here!!! thanks for your comment. nice and skitter scattery like the leaves and the wind and the rain that's all over the place around my neck of the woods!!! thanks for the hugs!!!! steven
Yes, two little clouds...which lining cries brilliant pouring earth sky lives mountains embrace upwardly hold the trees embrace the branches...Our world is an amazing mystery. Beautiful post, Steven.
That last little cloud, floating in the clearest of blue skies . . . it does so tug at my heart. The beauty of the earth! It is just so literally breathtaking at times. (and like the cummings poem, it make sense but is beyond understanding somehow)
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