gathering dead things

“The scholar, he thought, placing himself for the moment humbly among the elect, was, as some essayist had said, like the Angel of the Resurrection, gathering from the four corners of the earth what were else but dead things and infusing them with life.” –Mary Ellen Chase, Windswept

It reminds me of ideas from my post “Accidental Stones” — ideas which I chewed and published over two years ago. It’s a perspective I need to remember, as I range the four corners of the earth and collect dead bits of things onto blue-lined notebook pages.

The project is resurrection; the pieces fit together.

The hours spent scholaring then: a privilege rather than a pain?

Perhaps.

this is the way

The way sun and shade lie in a pattern on the grass of a pecan grove.

The way that yellow flowers grow in the low parts in the pasture, but not the high places.

The way a black horse stands in the shadow of a long-leaf pine.

The way Abraham the spider plant trembles in the breeze through my window.

The way a crow wings above the chapel roof.

The way the clouds seem not to move, though down here it’s all wind and motion.

The way students pass along the sidewalk, looking lighter than they’ve looked for many weeks.

The way today is goodbye to most of the people who stop by my office for a brownie.

The way goodbye can be beautiful.