“Nothing is more distressing than a thought that escapes itself, than ideas that fly off, that disappear hardly formed, already eroded by forgetfulness or precipitated into others that we no longer master.”
Cortney Cassidy • A soft manifesto
SOMETIMES
by David Whyte
Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest,
breathing
like the ones
in the old stories,
who could cross
a shimmering bed of leaves
without a sound,
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when the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.
the world is too full to talk about.
ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.
The Last Sky
In Japan there are stories of great Zen poets writing a superb haiku and then putting it in a bottle in a river or nearby stream and letting it go.