Saturday, August 13, 2011

a touch of light on the green field in upper austria

Sweet P is out of town at his sister's wedding and the longing for him is just awful. It's been fun to stay out late with my "gentlemen callers", but 2 days of it has been more than enough. I want my husband to come home now.

I was called in to rehearsal yesterday and immediately sent away, then told to wait in the hall until they needed me after all. For some other worldly reason -- probably rooted in my longing -- I watched part of Hannah and Her Sisters while I waited. So beautiful. And Sweet P's favorite.


somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

e.e. cummings

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