Sunday, March 27, 2016

Walt Whitman Goes Mindful!

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Walt Whitman, 1819 - 1892

Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night
        with any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so
        quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.

To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the
        ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

1 comment:

-blessed holy socks said...

Need some new fangled thots and ideers?? Look no firdr, brudda...

Greetings, earthling! Can't stay long, done gotta git, Paw ...yet, if I'm a sower, we plant the Seed; if I'm an artist, we write the Word:

I actually saw Seventh-Heaven when we died: you couldn't GET any moe curly, extravagantly-surplus-lush Upstairs when my beautifull, brilliant, bombastic, bawlsy girly passed-away at 17 (God calls U.S. home regardless of our maturity).

"Those who are wise will shine as brightly as the expanse of the Heavens, and those who have instructed many in uprightousness, as bright as stars for all eternity"
-Daniel 12:3

Here's what the prolific, exquisite GODy sed: 'the more you shall honor Me, the more I shall bless you'
-the Infant Jesus of Prague.

Go git'm, girl. You're incredible.
See you Upstairs...
I won't be joining'm in da nasty Abyss where Isis lies