Music in the Hills: in search of beauty

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

in search of beauty

i find myself hungry and searching for beauty to satisfy my soul.
writing sometimes will capture that for me, sometimes a good book or movie will take the corners of my hunger away...talking to my sisters is like participating in a feast meant for a Greek goddess... my soul leaves feeling indulged, fat and rolling with beauty
the creation of beauty is... well... darn... i just remembered i was defrosting pork ribs... what a way to come back... sigh...i hope they are still cold!... yes... still cold...
hmmm... which leaves me in the conundrum of what to do... i need to start cooking them... but i don't want the noise to wake up my children... sigh... i will solve this problem too... i am strong enough and smart enough to know what to do :)
so, as i was saying... the creation of beauty...is soul satisfying too...
hmmm... kids woke up... they are my number one... soul satisfying creations :)

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The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Sonnet: 'I dreaded walking where there was no path'

I dreaded walking where there was no path

And pressed with cautious tread the meadow swath

And always turned to look with wary eye

And always feared the owner coming by;

Yet everything about where I had gone

Appeared so beautiful I ventured on

And when I gained the road where all are free

I fancied every stranger frowned at me

And every kinder look appeared to say

You've been on trespass in your walk today,

I've often thought the day appeared so fine,

How beautiful if such a place were mine

But having nought I never feel alone

And cannot use another's as my own.

John Claire