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From Jan Phillips’ Museletter today

Hand Marbled Paper
Hand Marbled Paper
I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.
I want to free what waits within me
so that what no one has dared to wish for

may for once spring clear
without my contriving.

If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,
but this is what I need to say.
May what I do flow from me like a river,
no forcing and no holding back,
the way it is with children.

Then in these swelling and ebbing currents,
these deepening tides moving out, returning,
I will sing to you as no one ever has,

streaming through widening channels
into the open sea.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke ~

(Rilke’s Book of Hours:
Love Poems to God, translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy)

Sacred Waters and the Cave Call of Winter

Icon Collage by Suzi Banks Baum

February 5, 2010

I’d really rather be in Antigua. I am not in the mood to step out in to the cold. Skiing and ice skating are fun, but do I have to move off the radiator I am pressed next to in order to stay warm enough- warm enough to endure another month or two of winter?

I have the long detailed fantasy about a retreat I take in to a cave.
Yeah, a cave. A sacred, secret, no dinner preparations or wash to fold retreat where I can sleep, dream and bathe in hot mineral bathes to my hearts’ content. A long winter’s nap, now that we have taken down the Christmas tree. No one really needs me that much here at home this month. They are all in the swing of winter dressing, lunches and homework. They would hardly notice my absence.

And there I would be, warmly ensconced in soft robes, lost in a dream while some kind being tends to my every need without any conversation necessary.

Growing up in the quintessential winter wonderland, I never really understood people who went South. That is until I myself grew up a bit, sophisticated to the point where I found myself under a palm tree instead of a pine and let those tropical breezes soothe away my chapped cheeks and chilled fingertips.

This collage is my invitation to the Cave.


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