July Special Edition
My dear reader,
I’m listening to this Alan Watts lecture as I write this month’s special edition, pondering death, life and everything in between. It’s been a rather long month, and I can sense that in August, things may improve. But for now, there is a rekindling of hope within.
The rainy days in Bangalore don’t seem to help. I miss the sun, I miss making cyanotypes, I miss the warmth of summer. Then again, I’ve been trying to channel my meh state of mind into poetry, and well, it helps. Kind of.
I like how Robert Bly put it: “My feeling is that poetry is also a healing process, and then when a person tries to write poetry with depth or beauty, he/she will find themself guided along paths which will heal them, and this is more important, actually, than any of the poetry they write.”
Moving onto healing poems then, eh?
Poetry Corner
I’ve been waiting for the right day to send out these poems. Happy reading.
Fresh Cut Grass by Paul Colvin
The fresh cut grass, that summer scent
That smell of summer, Heaven sent
I used to squeeze it in my fingers
Shreds of green, its smell still lingers.
The whirring blades just spinning round
As bales of grass grew on the ground
I’d scoop it up and throw it high
Then take a dive and then just lie,
Or dive right into all that green
And like a magnet, stuck between
Every hair and every pore,
In all the clothes I ever wore
Would smell of grass and I somehow
Still find wee bits, yes, even now