The making of bricks is hard
coded into our DNA
That universal recipe
--straw, dirt, water--
(and we, too, are dust)
from ancient times still
flows from our hands into
that house our expulsion from paradise.
Monet's "Cliff Walk at Pourville" (Source: Wikipedia)
they stand at
great height from the sea.
Her red parasol
puffs in the wind
and beats it back
as a regatta races
with it swift
to the horizon.
They are cliff-flowers
rooted and bound to earth
but all their thoughts
are with the waves--
blue, green, purple
frothed with white
floating an escape
or flying away with the
white swan clouds
to parts unknown.
Driving north on Interstate 25 towards Santa Fe, New Mexico,
my husband and I rode in the car in companionable silence. This silence was
interrupted frequently by my “oohs” and “aahs” over the magnificent scenery—stretches
of desert peppered with sagebrush, the snow-topped Sangre de Cristo mountains
in the distance, and quite often, sandstone plateaus rising majestically from
the desert floor, thrust up eons ago by Earth’s mighty geological forces. But
other than my exclamations, all we could hear was the gentle whirring of our
rental’s engine and the swish of air exiting the dashboard vents.
At one point, I could stand it no longer and said, “Pull
over. I need a Kodak moment.” And so Dave parked on the shoulder of the road,
in sight of some of the stone monuments we had been seeing all along this
stretch of road.
I opened the car door and everything changed. I thought I
knew what quiet was, but the sudden and complete silence of the desert
surprised me. It was physical, palpable, as it rushed around me and enveloped
me. Even though the road was right at my back, this silence even swallowed the
noise of rushing cars. I was in a magnificent vacuum, like being left alone in
a pristine space, just myself and this beautiful, endless terrain that touched
an even more endless blue sky.
In graphic design, the concept of white space is very
important. Empty space must be left on the page to set off the content and so
that after the images and text are viewed and read, the eye can come to rest
somewhere. It occurred to me that this silence WAS white space, that quiet that
is so often missing in everyday life as we rush around, packing our 24 hours
full to overflowing with activities, noise, images, and information. As I let
the desert silence in, I was aware of a deep peace, a deep cushioning of soul
and spirit, a letting-go of all the rush that had followed me on this vacation.
This type of silence was health and goodness. I won’t forget it.
Endless desert space
Container of silence
Inside a red tulip a red dwarf burns an old sun’s final glory shining God’s praises then at its heart a dark brilliance begins racing toward the edges towards the finish line of stardom a supernova of petals or collapsing into a black hole that emerges into next year’s garden.
Welcome to Flores y Cantos (Flowers and Songs), a new blog that will feature my writing and original art. You may remember me from Bellas Artes, a blog I added to for a long time, where I talked about my arts and crafts projects and home life. Now I want to be more serious about my writing--I hope to include essays, memoirs, stories, book reviews--whatever I can wrap words around. I've been studying poetry and poetry writing for a year now, and so you will also see poems here. Check back each week for something new. Thanks for visiting!