Daily Poem: On The Nature of Understanding ~ Kay Ryan

April 23, 2017 | Filed Under Poem for Hela | Comments Off on Daily Poem: On The Nature of Understanding ~ Kay Ryan

On The Nature of Understanding
~ Kay Ryan

Say you hoped to
tame something
wild and stayed
calm and inched up
day by day. Or even
not tame it but
meet it half way.
Things went along.
You made progress,
understanding
it would be a
lengthy process,
sensing changes
in your hair and
nails. So it’s
strange when it
attacks: you thought
you had a deal.

Draw for April 23, 2017

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The Giants' Tarot, Raven Kaldera

The Giants’ Tarot, Raven Kaldera

Draw for April 23, 2017
Active Influence: Vafthrudnir/Two of Swords
Rune: Algiz/Protection (reversed)
Hidden Influence: Mundilfari/Six of Wands

You have A Big Question on your mind, and no easy or clear answer to it. Much importance attaches to the answer, and you are taking the pressure to heart in an unhealthy way. You feel vulnerable in this position, and worried that, no matter what you decide, it will be the wrong choice. Mundilfari reminds you that you have the ability to move through space and time; that is, you can consider different actions and project the consequences of those actions into the future. Both cards are even numbers; this is the time for contemplation, not action.

You may feel overwhelmed and unprepared, but you have what you need to make a good decision and follow through with right action at the right time.

Daily Poem: Extract from the Travels of Ibn Jubayr ~ Ruth Padel

April 22, 2017 | Filed Under Poem for Hela | Comments Off on Daily Poem: Extract from the Travels of Ibn Jubayr ~ Ruth Padel

Extract from the Travels of Ibn Jubayr
Ruth Padel

How we need each other, says the Master
returned from the Haj, crossing over this desert
of life and back, back to Granada.
The last water found was an uncased well.
Sand had fallen in. The camel-leader
sought to dig the water out but failed.

Next day we entered ‘Aydhab, a city of the desert,
and waited in air so hot it melts the flesh.
Nothing to eat save what we brought.
Ships came and went from India and Yemen.
Those citizens live off pilgrims, who carry in
their food, pay tax and wait for the jilab to Jiddah.

You cross the drift-born desert, a mountain range,
the clash and whistling of sea with your soft palate open
like chalk. You walk a border guarded by laws
you never heard. These are the crossings of faith.
We pay a single journey in advance
and pack into an open boat like chickens in a coop.

Winds blow us into anchorage, a shallow bay
where tall men, mountain Sudanese,
lead us through the mirages on camels. If we perish,
they seize everything. Pilgrims who survive come in
like men who have thrown off the shroud
and lie down under flowering trees.

 

Draw for April 22, 2017

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The Giants' Tarot, Raven Kaldera

The Giants’ Tarot, Raven Kaldera

Draw for April 22, 2017
Active Influence: Olvalde & Sons/Eight of Coins
Rune: Uruz/Strength (reversed)
Hidden Influence: Hyndla/The Hermit

Your inclination is to spend time alone. Your obligation is to spend time with others, and quite possibly for work or study. You are tired and want to be left alone, but you need to put on your shoes and get out of the house. Do what you need to do, and leave yourself open to being pleasantly surprised that the experience will be enjoyable and perhaps informative. Then go home and spend the evening in quiet pursuits, resting your body and mind. It is the weekend, after all.

Daily Poem: A Visit ~ Elaine Feinstein

April 21, 2017 | Filed Under Poem for Hela | Comments Off on Daily Poem: A Visit ~ Elaine Feinstein

A Visit
~ Elaine Feinstein

I still remember love like another country
with an almost forgotten landscape
of salty skin and a dry mouth. I think
there was always a temptation to escape
from the violence of that sun, the sudden
insignificance of ambition,
the prowl of jealousy like a witch’s cat .

Last night I was sailing in my sleep
like an old seafarer , with scurvy
colouring my thoughts , there was moonlight
and ice on green waters.
Hallucinations. Dangerous nostalgia.
And early this morning you whispered
as if you were lying softly at my side:

Are you still angry with me ? And spoke my
name with so much tenderness, I cried.
I never reproached you much
that I remember, not even when I should;
to me, you were the boy in Ravel’s garden
who always longed to be good,
as the forest creatures knew, and so do I.

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