Wednesday, November 16, 2011


above the lakes, above the vales,
the mountains and the woods, the clouds, the seas,
beyond the sun, beyond the ether,
beyond the confines of the starry spheres,
my soul, you move with ease,

purify yourself in the celestial air, drink the ethereal fire of those limpid regions
as you would the purest of heavenly nectars.

soar up towards those fields luminous and serene,
he whose thoughts, like skylarks,
toward the morning sky take flight
— who hovers over life and understands with ease
the language of flowers and silent things!

words excerpted from the work of Charles Baudelaire (Trans) William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

reading baudelaire and watching this unfolding sky i was compelled to listen to "i am a bird in god's garden" with words written by rumi and adapted to the world of music by french, frith, kaiser, and thompson


JJ Roa Rodriguez said...

That wonderful excerpt is just as gorgeous as the lictures sir steven!.. I love it!


JJ Roa Rodriguez said...

Sorry.... I might still be sleeping... I mean pictures not lictures.... :-)


Delwyn said...

Hi Steven
you've given me some leads to follow. Those clouds are soaring, lit from below...
I have taken to writing replies via email to comments left on my posts but you are a you want to email me your address???

Tess Kincaid said...

Ethereal morning skies, Steven...and your header pic is just stunning...

Cheryl Cato said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Cheryl Cato said...

"When I fall on my knees with my face to the rising sun,
O Lord, have mercy on me."

These photos immediately bring these words to my mind. It is a beautiful African-American spiritual that we sing in the multi-cultural, multi-ethnic church I attend.

Your banner photo is stunning.

The Weaver of Grass said...

It is wonderful steven that you can get such pleasure and such a sense of wonder both from words and from landscape. Your sense of wonder comes over to us too.

Friko said...

Reading Baudelaire while watching a sky unfold and having music in your soul, that is what I call being conscious.

Pauline said...

you fly there, steven