2001

Fri, 21 Dec 2001 09:33:19 EST

--part1_48.3c61df6.2954a22f_boundary
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

I like that poem a lot, Harry.  Thank you for sending it to me.  I will keep 
it and read it on every Winter Solstice.  Here is another one, written by a 
friend, that RL and I will read tonight in front of the Yule fire.

Winter Solstice

If we hold our mouths right
and catch time on the fly,
we can make the sun stand still,
leading it just far enough south 
before we command it to stop.

Here, where the Gulf can reach us
when it pleases, we lose so little light
by being turned away from the lamp
we plead no fear-stained prayer,
chant no begging hymns.

Here, the time for worship has come,
time to see deep into our hearts
the deliberate bright rolling of our planet home
in the great curve of its dark road.  Let us
make it blaze in the bare trees of our minds

and give praise.
             -Richard Powers

Today is our wedding anniversary.  Here is a poem RL always reads to me.  
It's fun.

EVOLUTION

When you were a tadpole and I was a fish
In the Paleozoic time,
And side by side on an ebbing tide
We sprawled through the ooze and slime,
Or skittered with many a caudal flip
Through the depths of the Cambrian fen,
My heart was rife with the joy of life,
For I loved you even then.

Mindless we lived and mindless we loved,
And mindless at last we died,
And deep in a rift of the Caradoc drift
We slumbered side by side.
The world turned on in the lathe of time.
The hot lands heaved again,
Till we caught our breath from the womb of death
And crept into light again.

We were Amphibians, scaled and tailed,
And drab as a dead man's hand,
We coiled at ease 'neath the dripping trees,
Or trailed through the mud and sand,
Croaking and blind, with our three-clawed feet,
Writing a language dumb,
With never a spark in the empty dark
To hint at a life to come.

Yet happy we lived, and happy we loved,
And happy we died once more,
Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold
Of a Neocomiah shore.
The eons came, and the eons fled,
And the sleep that wrapped us fast
Was riven away in a newer day,
And the night of death was past.

Then light and swift through the jungle trees
We swung in our airy flights,
Or breathed in the balms of the fronded palms
In the hush of the moonless nights.
And oh! What beautiful years were these,
When our hearts clung each to each,
When life was filled, and our senses thrilled
In the first faint dawn of speech.

Thus life by life, and love by love,
We passed through the cycles strange,
And breath by breath, and death by death,
We followed the chain of change.
Till there came a time in the law of life
When over the nursing sod,
The shadows broke and the soul awoke
In a strange, dim dream of God.

I was thewed like an Auroch bull,
And tusked like the great Cave Bear,
And you, my sweet, from head to feet,
Were gowned in your glorious hair.
Deep in the gloom of a fireless cave,
When night fell o'er the plain,
And the moon hung red o'er the river bed,
We mumbled the bones of the slain.

I flaked a flint to a cutting edge,
And shaped it with brutish craft;
I broke a a shank from the woodland dank,
And fitted it, head and haft.
Then I hid me close to the reedy tarn,
Where the Mammoth came to drink;
Through brawn and bone I drave the stone,
And slew him upon the brink.

Loud I howled through the moonlit wastes;
Loud answered our kith and kin.
>From west and east to the crimson feast
The clan came trooping in.
O'er joint and gristle and padded hoof,
We fought and clawed and tore,
And cheek by jowl, with many a growl,
We talked the marvel o'er.

I carved that fight on a reindeer bone,
With rude and hairy hand,
I pictured his fall on the cavern wall
That men might understand.
For we lived by blood, and the right of might
Ere human laws were drawn,
And the Age of Sin did not begin
Till our brutal tusks were gone.

And that was a million years ago
In a time that no man knows;
Yet here tonight in the mellow light,
We sit at Delmonico's.
Your eyes are deep as the Devon Springs,
Your hair is as dark as jet,
Your years are few, your life is new,
Your soul untried, and yet -

Our trail is on the Kimmeridge clay
And the scarp of the Purbeck flags.
We have left our bones in the Bagshot stones,
And deep in the Coraline crags.
Our love is old, our lives are old,
And death shall come amain;
Should it come today, what man may say
We shall not live again?

God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds
And furnished them wings to fly.
He sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,
And I know that it shall not die,
Though cities have sprung above the graves
Where the crook-boned men made war,
And the ox-wain creaks o'er the buried caves
Where the mummied mammoths are.

Then as we linger at luncheon here,
O'er many a dainty dish,
Let us drink anew to the time when you
Were a tadpole and I was a Fish.

             -Langdon Smith

Love from Folsom, and ain't it all a great mystery?  I sometimes feel like 
the woman written about by Annie Dillard who pondered..."Seems like somebody 
just set us down here and don't nobody know why...."
Carol

--part1_48.3c61df6.2954a22f_boundary
Content-Type: text/html; charset="US-ASCII"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

<HTML>I like that poem a lot, Harry. &nbsp;Thank you for sending it to me. &nbsp;I will keep it and read it on every Winter Solstice. &nbsp;Here is another one, written by a friend, that RL and I will read tonight in front of the Yule fire.
 
 Winter Solstice
 
 If we hold our mouths right
 and catch time on the fly,
 we can make the sun stand still,
 leading it just far enough south 
 before we command it to stop.
 
 Here, where the Gulf can reach us
 when it pleases, we lose so little light
 by being turned away from the lamp
 we plead no fear-stained prayer,
 chant no begging hymns.
 
 Here, the time for worship has come,
 time to see deep into our hearts
 the deliberate bright rolling of our planet home
 in the great curve of its dark road. &nbsp;Let us
 make it blaze in the bare trees of our minds
 
 and give praise.
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;-Richard Powers
 
 Today is our wedding anniversary. &nbsp;Here is a poem RL always reads to me. &nbsp;It's fun.
 
 EVOLUTION
 
 When you were a tadpole and I was a fish
 In the Paleozoic time,
 And side by side on an ebbing tide
 We sprawled through the ooze and slime,
 Or skittered with many a caudal flip
 Through the depths of the Cambrian fen,
 My heart was rife with the joy of life,
 For I loved you even then.
 
 Mindless we lived and mindless we loved,
 And mindless at last we died,
 And deep in a rift of the Caradoc drift
 We slumbered side by side.
 The world turned on in the lathe of time.
 The hot lands heaved again,
 Till we caught our breath from the womb of death
 And crept into light again.
 
 We were Amphibians, scaled and tailed,
 And drab as a dead man's hand,
 We coiled at ease 'neath the dripping trees,
 Or trailed through the mud and sand,
 Croaking and blind, with our three-clawed feet,
 Writing a language dumb,
 With never a spark in the empty dark
 To hint at a life to come.
 
 Yet happy we lived, and happy we loved,
 And happy we died once more,
 Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold
 Of a Neocomiah shore.
 The eons came, and the eons fled,
 And the sleep that wrapped us fast
 Was riven away in a newer day,
 And the night of death was past.
 
 Then light and swift through the jungle trees
 We swung in our airy flights,
 Or breathed in the balms of the fronded palms
 In the hush of the moonless nights.
 And oh! What beautiful years were these,
 When our hearts clung each to each,
 When life was filled, and our senses thrilled
 In the first faint dawn of speech.
 
 Thus life by life, and love by love,
 We passed through the cycles strange,
 And breath by breath, and death by death,
 We followed the chain of change.
 Till there came a time in the law of life
 When over the nursing sod,
 The shadows broke and the soul awoke
 In a strange, dim dream of God.
 
 I was thewed like an Auroch bull,
 And tusked like the great Cave Bear,
 And you, my sweet, from head to feet,
 Were gowned in your glorious hair.
 Deep in the gloom of a fireless cave,
 When night fell o'er the plain,
 And the moon hung red o'er the river bed,
 We mumbled the bones of the slain.
 
 I flaked a flint to a cutting edge,
 And shaped it with brutish craft;
 I broke a a shank from the woodland dank,
 And fitted it, head and haft.
 Then I hid me close to the reedy tarn,
 Where the Mammoth came to drink;
 Through brawn and bone I drave the stone,
 And slew him upon the brink.
 
 Loud I howled through the moonlit wastes;
 Loud answered our kith and kin.
 From west and east to the crimson feast
 The clan came trooping in.
 O'er joint and gristle and padded hoof,
 We fought and clawed and tore,
 And cheek by jowl, with many a growl,
 We talked the marvel o'er.
 
 I carved that fight on a reindeer bone,
 With rude and hairy hand,
 I pictured his fall on the cavern wall
 That men might understand.
 For we lived by blood, and the right of might
 Ere human laws were drawn,
 And the Age of Sin did not begin
 Till our brutal tusks were gone.
 
 And that was a million years ago
 In a time that no man knows;
 Yet here tonight in the mellow light,
 We sit at Delmonico's.
 Your eyes are deep as the Devon Springs,
 Your hair is as dark as jet,
 Your years are few, your life is new,
 Your soul untried, and yet -
 
 Our trail is on the Kimmeridge clay
 And the scarp of the Purbeck flags.
 We have left our bones in the Bagshot stones,
 And deep in the Coraline crags.
 Our love is old, our lives are old,
 And death shall come amain;
 Should it come today, what man may say
 We shall not live again?
 
 God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds
 And furnished them wings to fly.
 He sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,
 And I know that it shall not die,
 Though cities have sprung above the graves
 Where the crook-boned men made war,
 And the ox-wain creaks o'er the buried caves
 Where the mummied mammoths are.
 
 Then as we linger at luncheon here,
 O'er many a dainty dish,
 Let us drink anew to the time when you
 Were a tadpole and I was a Fish.
 
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;-Langdon Smith
 
 Love from Folsom, and ain't it all a great mystery? &nbsp;I sometimes feel like the woman written about by Annie Dillard who pondered..."Seems like somebody just set us down here and don't nobody know why...."
 Carol</HTML>

--part1_48.3c61df6.2954a22f_boundary--