Tuesday, November 22, 2016

7:30 BELLS: Then and Now, and Still The Same

For twenty years, this was the tiny view I had from the writing window of my house on Tacoma. On December 12, 2012 I posted this poem about it:


A Room With No View

If you see only rooftops—
christen each shingle.

If you see only crows—
tickle their feathers.

If you see only wires—
join their crackling gossip.

If you see only clouds—
ask where they’ve been.

If you see only cages—
slide down the light on the bars,
and you will be free.


Dia Calhoun 12/2012






Where we live now on the Nisqually, we just had these windows and doors (trim covering!) installed. Now I have a room with a big view. This is my backyard. The light through the trees is where the river runs. And I love it.

But I'm still cultivating the same attitude expressed in the poem. Because I believe that if your inner view is large enough, even a room with no window will look out upon immensity.

No comments:

Post a Comment