I wrote this morning of a poem I wasn’t able to find. I found it. It’s a little prose-poem by Dag Hammarskjold in his book, Markings:
“What next? Why ask? Next will come a demand about which you already know all you need to know: that its sole measure is your own strength.” Dag Hammarskjold Markings p. 129
In looking through the book for the first time in many years, I was struck again by its beauty and how differently I read it at 68 and 356 days.
” 11.19-20.55
The light died in the low clouds. Falling snow drank in the dusk. Shrouded in silence, the branches wrapped me in their peace. When the boundaries were erased, once again the wonder: that I exist.” Markings 113
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2020/12/29/rdp-tuesday-what-next/
Beautiful❣ Isn’t it amazing how life experiences brings new “lives” to the words we read? I wonder how I’ll read things at 68. I know that my appreciation will continue to grow.
It is incredible. ❤
I remember the controversy of Hammarskjold’s death. It’s still a controversy.
I’m reading Kent Nerburn’s “Voices in the Stones,” a glimpse into Native understanding of the world. As an old white guy, I’m listening as best I can.
❤️ that’s all any of us can do
Happy New Year, my year of 80, of Hopeful Uncertainty, but a bit of hope.
Your meditation on Markings?
Looks like the cover of mine before I Kindle-ized it, snd passed on.
Thanks for helping hold together our collective unconscious.
❤ Happy New Year, James. It's such a lovely book. I'm glad I had a reason to dig it out today.
Yes. This is what perspective can do – make the words we read at 30 as a story, at 60 they become a poem…
❤
I like that. ❤
Beautiful, so glad you found the poem again – the timing seems perfect for reading it anew 💜 xxx
It does. ❤