Tags
Beauty, Condordia, earth, Ehwaz, Janus, Muir, mythopoetic, Nature, pagan, Pennick, Rilke, Rumi, tree
Janus and Condordia/Runic half-month Ehwaz commences
Festival of Janus and Concordia. The Runic half-month Ehwaz, the horse, is a time of partnership between humans and Nature, as between rider and horse. Good time for pilgrimage.
— The Pagan Book Of Days, Nigel Pennick
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I am the dust in the sunlight, I am the ball of the sun . . .
I am the mist of morning, the breath of evening . . . .
I am the spark in the stone, the gleam of gold in the
metal . . . .
The rose and the nightingale drunk with its fragrance.
I am the chain of being, the circle of the spheres,
The scale of creation, the rise and the fall.
I am what is and is not . . .
I am the soul in all.
— Rumi
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“Oh, these vast calm measureless mountain days, inciting at once to work and rest. Days in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God. Never more, however weary, should one faint by the way who gains the blessings of one mountain day; whatever his fate, long life, short life, stormy or calm, he is rich forever.” [p 82]
“These blessed mountains are so compactly filled with God’s beauty, no petty personal hope or experience has room to be . . . . the whole body seems to feel beauty when exposed to it as it feels the campfire or sunshine, entering not by the eyes alone, but equally through all one’s flesh like radiant heat, making a passionate ecstatic pleasure-glow not explainable. One’s body then seems homogeneous throughout, sound as a crystal.” [p 174-5]
— John Muir, My First Summer In the Sierra
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The Sonnets To Orpheus: Iv — Rainer Maria Rilke
O you tender ones, walk now and then
into the breath that blows coldly past,
Upon your cheeks let it tremble and part;
behind you it will tremble together again.
O you blessed ones, you who are whole,
you who seem the beginning of hearts,
bows for the arrows and arrows’ targets–
tear-bright, your lips more eternally smile.
Don’t be afraid to suffer; return
that heaviness to the earth’s own weight;
heavy are the mountains, heavy the seas.
Even the small trees you planted as children
have long since become too heavy; you could not
carry them now. But the winds…But the spaces….
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“So, I lose the four walls in the room and I go outside. And there’s these magnificent trees, these beings, out there – and all the weather and all of Nature. And all the cicadas. And all the tree frogs. And all the Balance. And all the Life. And all the toads squawking and all the crickets chirping. This world is full of Life – just like you.” — T.S.
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Commemoration Of Days 