; lowtide HIGHTIDE

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Just once I knew what life was for. In Boston, quite suddenly, I understood; walked there along the Charles River, watched the lights copying themselves, all neoned and strobe-hearted, opening counted the stars, my little campaigners, their mouths as wide as opera singers;  on the night green side of it and cried my scar daisies, and knew that I walked my love my heart to the eastbound cars and cried my heart to the westbound cars and took  my truth across a small humped bridge and hurried my truth, the charm of it, home  and hoarded these constants into morning only to find them gone.  ANN SEXTON

These words reminds me of my days of rowing in the Charles River, such an extraordinary point of view I was fortunate to experience.  So quite on that river (other than the coxswain!!). Just my heart against my chest, the light of dawn and dusk, the synchronicity of other peoples rhythms, my pain and my will... oh yes and the sky! Streets! City scape! Cars! Lights! Water!  Sometimes there are moments so clear with the meaning if it all, all questions evaporate and all seems just right as it is. The clandestine of all our joy and pain is gone and a such pure clarity present, then poof gone.  It is important to to remember those moments and hold on to the environments in which they are created.  Maybe we can find some peace in that.
Boston by artist Aaron Straup Cope
morning time.

What do Ann's words make you think of?

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