Forests, lakes, and rivers, clouds and winds, stars and flowers, stupendous glaciers and crystal snowflakes – every form of animate or inanimate existence, leaves its impress upon the soul of man.

~ Orison Swett Marden

Photo by Jim Maloney | The Metolius River, a tributary of the Deschutes River in Central Oregon

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Divine Overdose

The Underground

Photo by TJ Parker

We are even more modern
we are free
not to know
pining pining
til the trees are in
their autumn beauty
who knows why
we are free
an LP of poetry
left on in the apartment
while I walk my love
to the subway
she turns to gold
in the light banking off
the ball-fields
and to have to think
of that small
pale body asleep
I return I take the stairs
3 at a time
and now my heart is sore

~ Matthew Rohrer

Only in the darkness can you see the stars.

~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Photo by John Behrends | Along the Oregon coast at Shore Acres State Park, Oregon

Starstruck

Lunchtime With Woodwinds

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Photo by TJ Parker

I wish I could write a song
to make the world
yield to this rushing

lapping what starts
tonguing what parts
any possible other world than this

inertia for pink medallion
inertia for those skeptics
in the building

who think of the unknown
as hemorrhage—quick stop
that thing from surfacing

I want to rub along
the webbing I want nothing but
the cove’s yawning jaw

for how else could possibility emerge
you see that honey
seeping through cracks?

let’s consider unbearable facts
beat this meat against the rocks
you call that virtue? knock knock

is this the proper place for the symposium?
small of my back requests unfolding
requests enveloping entry

call the operators
to open pathways
to vessels which gleam

rightly and rush
to make this here inlet
a humid blue bowl

to resist enclosure
and the loaded laying down
of structure on soft earth

as desire can never perish
blind in the rush of weeds
trying to get a glimpse

of the law
falling away
and in passing breathing lift

~ Alli Warren

Listen to the trees as they sway in the wind.
Their leaves are telling secrets. Their bark sings songs of olden days as it grows around the trunks. And their roots give names to all things.
Their language has been lost.
But not the gestures.

~ Vera Nazarian

Photo by Tom Elliott | Sauk County, Wisconsin

Today's Mass Extinction and Holocene-Anthropocene Thermal Maximum

Wander into the center of the circle of wonder.

~ Hongzhi Zhengjue

Photo by Alice Cahill | Sequoia National Park, California

How does a Black Bear cross a meadow?

The Map

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Photo by TJ Parker

The failure of love might account for most of the suffering in the world.

The girl was going over her global studies homework

in the air where she drew the map with her finger

touching the Gobi desert,

the Plateau of Tiber in front of her,

and looking through her transparent map backwards

I did suddenly see,

how her left is my right, and for a moment I understood.

~ Marie Howe