Christina Rosalie

Posts from the “Poems + Wonder” Category

Today {Just One Paragraph 12/20}

Posted on August 2, 2013

 
 
 
 
photo (56)



Today, nothing quite lined up, though there were many moments: picking wild berries, seeing friends at the South End Truck Stop, and watching Bean watch the glass blowers, his eyes wide, his whole body watching. And there was last night when my writer crew gathered around my dining room table with wine and good chocolate, ears listening for the heart of my story. Still, today was just today. And I am trying to let it be enough.


Today

Today I’m flying low and I’m
not saying a word.
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.

But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.

– By Mary Oliver


Just this:

Posted on July 6, 2013

fieldAndSky


“The Summer Day”

I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
 
— Mary Oliver

What my heart wants to say, even though my own words fall short:

Posted on April 15, 2013

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Tangled Roots - Christina Rosalie

KEEPING QUIET

Now we will count to twelve
and we will keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
ets stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engins;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
 

 
~ Pablo Neruda
 
 
So, so devastated by the days events. Words fail, yet my heart is full.

How it is:

Posted on November 4, 2012

The Decision

There is a moment before a shape
hardens, a color sets.
Before the fixative heat of kiln.
The letter might still be taken
from the mailbox.
The hand held back by the elbow,
the word kept between the larynx pulse
and the amplifying drum-skin of the room’s air.
The thorax of an ant is not as narrow.
The green coat on old copper weighs more.
Yet something slips through it–
looks around,
sets out in the new direction, for other lands.
Not into exile, not into hope. Simply changed.
As a sandy track-rut changes when called a Silk Road:
it cannot be after turned back from.

— Jane Hirshfield

Grow your wonder

Posted on October 9, 2012

It’s easy to forget, with all the potential of our complex technologies and science how little we actually really know. It’s easy to grow complacent with google at our finger tips, data always at the ready, answers as cheap and fast as rain. It’s easy to forget about wonder, and how it dwells in us as a vital force. Yet to wonder is to explore the anatomy of creativity.

To wonder, is to remember your smallness among the universe of things: galaxies and breath and sudden dying stars, first chances, and last encounters; and to take note of the minutia that matters–an individual flick of the wrist; the subtlety of gesture, the complexity of synapses, the nuances of code, or laughter, or pronunciation. And beneath that to ask: what is your heart saying when you listen?


To wonder is to look up into the night sky, or at the Fibonacci spiral unfolding in the petals of a flower, and be filled with utter awe. Wonder is why children are profusely, almost unstoppably creative. They imagine everything is possible, and bow down before that possibility with their imagination in their palms as an offering.

When was the last time you were overcome with wonder?

The truth and the stories…

Posted on August 27, 2012

“I believe in everything not yet said.”

– Rainer Maria Rilke

from The Book of Hours

Hello dear ones,
Oh it’s been so long, I hardly know how to begin. The stories I’ve been living though–oh, they are good ones. Some to tell, some to tuck away into the secret sheaves of story in my mind.

* * *

I can’t believe it: that my book will be in book stores in a matter of days, and already it’s in Amazon.

* * *

The truth is: I don’t really have my stuff together at all about this whole book launch thing. It’s a wild adventure of living into the moment, and to be honest, there are many days (most, actually) where it feels like I’m hurtling towards the unknown without guardrails.

The truth is also that I wish I had more time, and I’m just now, finally beginning to reclaim some for this work that I love so very dearly.

And the truth is that in every free moment, instead of writing, I’ve been painting postcards to send out to all my backers, along with printing the most GORGEOUS postcards–of original illustrations from A Field Guide To Now. And they are really so lovely!

It’s terribly fun to see them as actual postcards–that you can hold in your hand and scribble notes on from the moment and then send off to your friends and loved ones. I can’t wait to share/show them to you!

I’m going to be giving away a couple of packs of postcards this Friday–so stay tuned for details.

* * *

In the meantime, tell me things.

Tell me: what has yet to be said in your life?

Tell me: what are you looking forward to with the arrival of this new season?