You must travel it for yourself.
It is not far...it is in reach,
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know,
Perhaps it is every where on water and on land." -W.W.
"Long enough have you dreamed contemptible dreams,
Now I wash the gum from your eyes,
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of
every moment of your life.
Long have you timidly waded, holding a plank by the shore,
Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,
To jump off in the midst of the sea,
and rise again and nod to me and shout,
and laughingly dash with your hair." -W.W.
Here are some words I leave for you from my favorite poet, Walt Whitman...
This is my last post; I've left the posts that I wrote while in Tanzania, for those that would like to see those now and again. Thanks for reading, commenting, and enjoying.
11 comments:
What a wonderful picture of you. I hope that you won't delete your blog even if you decide not to write more for a time. I love all the pictures from your time in Tanzania, etc., etc. Of course, the wonderful thing about a blog is that it is at the command of the blogger. However, the bloggee should have some say in the deal, too. love and kisses from your mom.
Maybe I'll delete all but quotations and Africa... hmmmmm
Dear Naomi, We will miss your blog as well. Enjoy your quotations especially the poetry. I've been trying to find the name of a poem by James Russell Lowell that ends "some of us call it Autumn but others call it God." You don't happen to remember it do you? Aunt Anonymous from McFarland
Dear Aunt Anonymous! I think this is the poem you are looking for, by William Herbert Carruth
EACH IN HIS OWN TONGUE
by: William Herbert Carruth(1859-1924)
FIRE-MIST and a planet,--
A crystal and a cell,--
A jelly-fish and a saurian,
And caves where the cave-men dwell;
Then a sense of law and beauty,
And a face turned from the clod,--
Some call it Evolution,
And others call it God.
A haze on the far horizon,
The infinite, tender sky,
The ripe, rich tint of the cornfields,
And the wild geese sailing high,--
And all over the upland and lowland
The charm of the goldenrod,--
Some of us call it Autumn,
And others call it God.
Like tides on a crescent sea-beach,
When the moon is new and thin,
Into our hearts high yearnings
Come welling and surging in,--
Come from the mystic ocean
Whose rim no foot has trod,--
Some of us call it longing,
And others call it God.
A picket frozen on duty,--
A mother starved for her brood,--
Socrates drinking the hemlock,
And Jesus on the rood;
And millions who, humble and nameless,
The straight, hard pathways plod,--
Some call it Consecration,
And others call it God.
Dear Naomi, That is the poem. I was way off on the poet that wrote it. Thanks so much. It is one of my favorites. With love and thanks. Your Aunt Anonymous from McFarland.
I love your blog...don't get to it that often but when I do I just sigh as it's so beautiful. Don't feel pressure to always post...just when you want to. My thought is that it is better kept.
love barb
Naomi, if the poll is still open, may I offer my humble opinion or vote to keep the blog?? I see a blog as a way to be a part of a persons life. I have truly enjoyed reading your blog although I too don't always comment.
Hope to see you soon.
Blessings
Karen W
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