It’s a blessing to live in an era where the wisdom and artistry of others is right at our fingertips. Poems - one of the ultimate art forms using an economy of words (for eons before blogging) can get to the center of many things.
As I wrestle with keeping my heart like the “half open flower” described by Jacobsen in the poem below “When They Sleep,” I also plant this wish for peace - on all levels of our lives - for you, reader. ~ mlp
When They Sleep
All people are children when they sleep.
There's no war in them then.
They open their hands and breathe
in that quiet rhythm heaven has given them.
They pucker their lips like small children
and open their hands halfway,
soldiers and statesmen, servants and masters.
The stars stand guard
and a haze veils the sky,
a few hours when no one will do anybody harm.
If only we could speak to one another then
when our hearts are half-open flowers.
Words like golden bees
would drift in.
-- God, teach me the language of sleep.
~ Rolf Jacobsen ~
(The Roads Have Come to an End Now, translation by Robert Hedin)
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