I saw Walt Whitman strolling through the park today...alive as you and me, like they say...along Forbidden Drive...called that—this is true—because you’re forbidden to drive on it...above the legendary Wissahickon Creek....I’ve seen him along there before...maybe up in Mt. Airy, too...though this was more notable because it was right near the broken bench with the inscription from Song of Myself that they got wrong,I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware that I sit content
adding that that that doesn’t belong at all though somebody—maybe Walt himself...certainly this sighting makes me suspicious—kind of corrected it with a black magic marker....anyway, he seemed content enough...if a bit worse for wear...which you can’t blame him for...I mean, the guy is closing in on the end of his second century...and the Civil War really seemed to take something out of him...
I am nothing, and therefore I am everything, and all energy
J. Krishnamurti
Energy is Eternal Delight
William Blake
Tonight the bottle let me down, and let your memory come around....
Merle Haggard
It’s raining outside, started while I was in the park, and I brought the rain into the coffee shop. The rain follows me, and I follow the rain, and maybe I am the rain. The rain is in my hair and the rain is inseparable from my hair...though my eyes are two suns...sons absent a father brain, wandering aimlessly from place to place, but never lost because knowing always that lost is where they belong....
Coffee is energy. Then, so is everything else...maybe. Energy is in crisis, always. We fuel the wars we fight for energy with energy, though it’s often lacking when I need to go home but can’t get away from this window seat, looking out at the rain. Coffee fails me sometimes, like Merle Haggard with his inconstant whiskey bottle...like anything, really, but it tastes good, at least...and that’s not like just anything.
Walt Whitman wrote about Nature without check with original energy but he doesn’t come into the coffee shop to talk with me about it, at least not when I’m here. Perhaps he’s made his peace with the rain.
adding that that that doesn’t belong at all though somebody—maybe Walt himself...certainly this sighting makes me suspicious—kind of corrected it with a black magic marker....anyway, he seemed content enough...if a bit worse for wear...which you can’t blame him for...I mean, the guy is closing in on the end of his second century...and the Civil War really seemed to take something out of him...
I am nothing, and therefore I am everything, and all energy
J. Krishnamurti
Energy is Eternal Delight
William Blake
Tonight the bottle let me down, and let your memory come around....
Merle Haggard
It’s raining outside, started while I was in the park, and I brought the rain into the coffee shop. The rain follows me, and I follow the rain, and maybe I am the rain. The rain is in my hair and the rain is inseparable from my hair...though my eyes are two suns...sons absent a father brain, wandering aimlessly from place to place, but never lost because knowing always that lost is where they belong....
Coffee is energy. Then, so is everything else...maybe. Energy is in crisis, always. We fuel the wars we fight for energy with energy, though it’s often lacking when I need to go home but can’t get away from this window seat, looking out at the rain. Coffee fails me sometimes, like Merle Haggard with his inconstant whiskey bottle...like anything, really, but it tastes good, at least...and that’s not like just anything.
Walt Whitman wrote about Nature without check with original energy but he doesn’t come into the coffee shop to talk with me about it, at least not when I’m here. Perhaps he’s made his peace with the rain.
6 comments:
"my eyes are two suns...sons absent a father brain" That gave me a smile.
I know that Deepak Chopra & some others state that not only is everything energy, but that the energy is limitless, always at our disposal (now that I think about it, isn't THAT an unfortunately apt word, considering human nature!) That's all well & good, but sometimes, like you, when I'm tired or worn down, I wish Mr. Chopra would have told me where the energy ATM is because contrary to the generalization, meditation really is NOT it.
I was just thinking of Whitman yesterday, but I didn't see him. I was thinking of "Out Of The Cradle Endlessly Rocking" and how used to gain comfort from rocking. Eh.
"The rain follows me, and I follow the rain, and maybe I am the rain." I like that sentiment.
He's ubiquitous, this Walt Whitman energy that is everywhere and nowhere.
I quoted him on the M&H Blog. What a waste, I should have quoted him here.
Thanks for making my day. I have been the rain too sometimes. And other things not nearly so noble.
I like sitting in coffee shops when it is raining and just letting my thoughts drift down the window pain right along with the wet. It was raining here today and I found myself gazing out quite often. I'm afraid I laughed at the picture of a pair of eyes wobbling about lost in your head.
I hope they return to their rightful place in time to wander home ... Walt or no Walt.
Energy is Eternal Delight.
I just recently found that out, experienced it for myself. I never thought I would but I did... and I feel eternally blessed.
My reaction to this post was sheer love for this post. Your blog is becoming a great voice in the wilderness, and it is my favorite of all blogs.
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