Light Focus - A visual blog where images gently rub against perception and memory - enjoy a scroll
“The cricket doesn’t wonder / if there’s a heaven / or, if there is, if there’s room for him. / It’s fall. Romance is over. Still, he sings. / If he can, he enters a house / through the tiniest crack under the door. / Then the house grows colder. / He sings slower and slower. / Then nothing. / This must mean something. I don’t know what. / But certainly it doesn’t mean / he hasn’t been an excellent cricket all his life.”
“Not yesterday I learned to know / The love of bare November days / Before the coming of the snow …” Robert Frost (Photo by Doug Coulson)
Photo by Doug Coulson
“My sorrow, when she’s here with me / Thinks these dark days of autumn rain / Are beautiful as days can be … “
From Robert Frost’s “My November Guest”
Photo by Doug Coulson
"To see a world in a grain of sand / And heaven in a wild flower / Hold infinity in the palm of your hand / And eternity in an hour" William Blake
Photo by Doug Coulson
"Not yesterday I learned to know / The love of bare November days / Before the coming of the snow ... " Robert Frost
Not yesterday / I learned to know / the love of bare November days / before the coming of the snow ... Robert Frost
Issa
ee cummings
... dance till the stars come down from the rafters / Dance, dance, dance till you drop ... W.H. Auden
... Pablo Neruda
... A world of grief and pain / flowers bloom / even then Issa
"... Not yesterday I learned to know / the love of bare November days / before the coming of the snow ... " Robert Frost
Make the day seem to us less brief. / Hearts not adverse to being beguiled, / Beguile us in the way you know. / Release one leaf at break of day; / At noon release another leaf; / One from our trees, one far away ... From Robert Frost's October
" ... for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; ... "
WB Yeats
"The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews,
Not to be born is the best for man;
The second-best is a formal order,
The dance’s pattern; dance while you can." ... W.H. Auden
I look into the dragonfly's eye
And see the mountains over my shoulder
Are you nobody, too? / Then there's a pair of us - don't tell! / They'd banish us, you know. // How dreary to be somebody! / How public, like a frog / To tell your name the livelong day / To an admiring bog!" Emily Dickinson
