Tag: peace

something winter-y

This week’s poem is another recent discovery and I’m not sure quite what appeals to me so much about it. But something does. See what you make of Tom Hennen’s charming ‘Sheep in the Winter Night (which Garrison will read for you at 2:38, if you so wish).

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a touch of cold

You know that first smell of autumn? The first morning you leave the house and the air is different?—crisper, with that first whiff of deliciously decaying leaves? That’s one of my favourite moments in the year, and I’ve been looking for a poem which celebrates it. So far I haven’t found quite the thing—do let me know if you know one—but I did like the reference to ‘A touch of cold’ in this small but lovely poem, ‘Autumn‘, by TE Hulme. See what you think.

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the tyranny of shoulds

I’ve been searching the interweb for a poem called ‘Delivery’ by Marie Howe, and can’t find it anywhere (if anyone has more luck, do please let me know). The search was not wasted, though, because I’ve discovered more of her poetry, and today I’ve got ‘The Moment‘ for you to… well… take a moment (sorry) to read.

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the wheel of fortune

I just love it when a poem from another time or place “reaches” me: suddenly I’m in relationship with someone from another age or culture, often someone whose bones are long since turned to dust. Ain’t that something? Last week a poetry magazine I read had Robert Southall’s* ‘Times go by Turns‘ printed under the Editorial, and I had just that experience of remote connection: I felt less alone—comforted by being accompanied, by seeing what is common and constant in human experience. See if the poem does it for you, too.

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the joy of autumn

I don’t know if it’s because one way and another I ended up spending a ridiculously long time in the academic system—schoolchild, student (several times!), lecturer, then student again—but to me autumn has always felt much more like the beginning of things than spring. The changes in light and landscape always wake in me a quiet excitement, a sense simultaneously of possibility and openings and yet also, with the longer evenings and nights, the opportunity for peace, retreat, renewal. That probably sounds paradoxical, I know. But it’s true. So that’s what this hymn to November is about.

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