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A Moment of Quiet

October 29th, 2010

CRW_3246

It’s been a busy week on (and off) the farm, full of green tomato relish, goat escapes, and adventures up the coast to research my new book project, the Food Lovers’ Guide to Maine. Don’t worry, we’ll fill you in on all the excitement later. In the midst of the bustle, here’s a quieting poem for the weekend, my favorite by Rainer Maria Rilke.

Evening

Slowly now the evening changes his garments
held for him by a rim of ancient trees;
you gaze: and the landscape divides and leaves you,
one sinking and one rising toward the sky.
*
And you are left, to none belonging wholly,
not so dark as a silent house, nor quite
so surely pledged unto eternity
as that which grows to star and climbs the night.
*
To you is left (unspeakably confused)
your life, gigantic, ripening, full of fears,
so that it, now hemmed in, now grasping all,
is changed in you by turns to stone and stars.

Poems , ,

Putting in the Seed

June 11th, 2010
Pea tendrils grasp birch branches in the morning after the rain
Pea tendrils grasp birch branches in the morning after the rain. Soon will come the reward for these seeds put in weeks ago.

A poem for your weekend, by Robert Frost:

Putting In the Seed

You come to fetch me from my work tonight

When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see

If I can leave off burying the white

Soft petals fallen from the apple tree

(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,

Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;

And go along with you ere you lose sight

Of what you came for and become like me,

Slave to a springtime passion for the earth.

How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed

On through the watching for that early birth

When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,

The sturdy seedling with arched body comes

Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

Garden, Poems , ,