One of those little treats of our new web based world is Panhala, who sends me a poem every day….
Today I received something from the Buddhist poet Jane Hirschfield’s Lives of the Heart.
“Almost the twenty-first century” —
how quickly the thought will grow dated,
even quaint.
Our hopes, our future,
will pass like the hopes and futures of others.
And all our anxieties and terrors,
nights of sleeplessness,
griefs,
will appear then as they truly are —
Stumbling, delirious bees in the tea scent of jasmine.
This afternoon Jan and I drive out to Western Massachusetts for our annual Tanglewood adventure, staying with some old friends, sleeping in, reading, attending of course, two Tanglewood events, weather permitting picking blueberries, maybe visiting a museum, maybe just hanging with old friends…
I’m not sure, I think this is our eighth year.
And I’m aware of how our past adventures have blended into a sweet miasma of partial memories, events…
And, I’m so aware, how quickly time passes by…
How these fleeting shadows are only that lingering memory, a hint of Jasmine…
To be enjoyed.
But not grasped…
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