What The Dog Perhaps Hears by Lisel Mueller

Photographer Unknown
photographer unknown (?)

What The Dog Perhaps Hears by Lisel Mueller

 

If an inaudible whistle

blown between our lips

can send him home to us,

then silence is perhaps

the sound of spiders breathing

and roots mining the earth;

it may be asparagus heaving,

headfirst, into the light

and the long brown sound

of cracked cups, when it happens.

We would like to ask the dog

if there is a continuous whir

because the child in the house

keeps growing, if the snake

really stretches full length

without a click and the sun

breaks through clouds without

a decibel of effort,

whether in autumn, when the trees

dry up their wells, there isn’t a shudder

too high for us to hear.

 What is it like up there

above the shut-off level

of our simple ears?

For us there was no birth cry,

the newborn bird is suddenly here,

the egg broken, the nest alive,

and we heard nothing when the world changed.

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This is to be my symphony

To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion, to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly, to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart, to bear all cheerfully, to all bravely await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual unbidden and unconscious grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony.”  — William Henry Channing

The Shadow Hand (1896) by Charles Lacoste
The Shadow Hand (1896) by Charles Lacoste

 

 

Nature begins to whisper

All of nature begins to whisper its secrets to us through its sounds. Sounds that were previously incomprehensible to our soul now become the meaningful language of nature.

~ Rudolf Steiner

Ian Cheyne, Hell's Glen

 

Every being cries out silently to be read differently

Two_Men_by_the_Sea_by_Caspar_David_Friedrich

C. D. Friedrich –  Two Men by the Sea

Justice. To be ever ready to admit that another person is something quite different from what we read when he is there (or when we think about him). Or rather, to read in him that he is certainly something different, perhaps something completely different from what we read in him.
Every being cries out silently to be read differently.
—  Simone Weil, Gravity and Grace

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Listen With a Still Heart

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Above all, he learned from it how to listen, to listen with a still heart, with a waiting, open soul, without passion, without desire, without judgment, without opinions. — Herman Hesse, Siddhartha