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Showing posts from January, 2020

Beauty, Crystallized; Appreciation, Symbolized

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Just leafing through photos on a lazy winter evening.  I took this one at the Metropolitan Opera in December, when Adella and I saw Philip Glass's opera Akhnaten.  The crystal chandeliers in the lobby took our breath away before we could glimpse the incredibly elegant performance of Glass's masterpiece, which he wrote in 1984. 

The chandeliers were a gift from Austria "as a symbol of the gratitude which her people wish to express for the generous aid they received from the United States during the trying years after World War II."









A Hairy Moment for Maeve

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Maeve knows how to rock the Sunday morning bed-head-all-day look, that's for sure!  The dry heat of the house in winter show her ears no mercy.  She has learned not to mind or, even, to notice.  There's a lesson in that!

Echo Had the Last Word

Echo had the last word
And it was your word
She said, “Caress me,”
After you said death would be better
Than that she should caress you.
She loved you, but you had your thing
Even after all that “avoid me not.”
You, child of the ever-moving river, kept on,
While she, child of the mountain,
Grieved in her cave.
Such was her love,
Such was your beauty.

She got it.
You did not.

You moved on.
She stuck around, and Pan taught her
His songs,

Freeing her
From Hera’s curse of voicelessness.

You can’t always know who will deliver you.
But you can know better than to resist
When deliverance comes.

You came to love yourself,
And that was great,
But you never quite kicked open your doors
To the fullness of love.

But Echo waited.
Despite you, she sang your song.

Through her,
You outlive death.

To those wonders about you that you never named
She gave voice
That your love might go beyond yourself.

This is everything.
Call it love.