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Posts Tagged ‘slow’

The heart of the blue whale

is in no hurry, only four to eight

beats per minute. And the glaciers

move their brilliant blue mass

less than three hundred meters a year.  

And forgiveness, it can move even

slower than that. It may be months,

even years before it blooms.

But how wondrous, when at last

we recognize that, perhaps through

no effort of our own, it has released

its unhurried perfume into our thoughts—

oh sweetness we thought might never arrive,

oh surprise when it touches us everywhere.

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On An April Evening

 

 

 

The creek is rising, love,

all surge and plunge,

a rapid, eager coursing—

do you see how the water

surges, falls over itself

in its springborn hurry—

all around us, ahh, do you hear?

the world is a-scurry

with reachings and rushings

and places to go,

and in me this wish

to do nothing but

touch you very,

very, very

slow

ly.

 

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It is slow and soft, the first movement—

the right hand sweeping in smooth triple meter,

the left hand singing against it.

Minor, the key, and mysterious

the melody, slow, it is slow and soft,

a walk through moonlight.

What is it that sometimes rises in us,

this urge toward crescendo, toward swell?

I feel it in my hands as they move

across the stoic keys, an urgency,

a reaching toward climax, a pressing

insistence, as if to sing louder is to sing

more true. But over and over again,

Beethoven reminds us, piano, piano,

his markings all through the music.

Oh beauty in restraint. It is soft,

the moonlight, a delicate fragrance,

it is heart opening, the tune,

it is growing in me, this lesson in just

how profoundly the quiet

can move us. And the hands,

as they learn to trust in softness,

how beautifully they bloom.

 

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blue heron

in the tree top—

this quickening heart

 

*

 

I draw for myself

a new starting line—

on your open palm

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