It occurs to me…

I know I have used this poem before, but it is a favorite, and every onoce and a while I take a photo that draws me back to it — like this one taken a few weeks back in Galveston.

From Howard Thurman, Deep Is the Hunger, this prayer, O God, I Need Thee:

I Need Thy Sense of Time

Always I have an underlying anxiety about things.

Sometimes I am in a hurry to achieve my ends and am completely without patience. 

It is hard for me to realize that some growth is slow, that all processes are not swift. 

I cannot always discriminate between what takes time to develop and what can be rushed, because my sense of time is dulled.

I measure things in terms of happenings. O to understand the meaning of perspective that I may do all things with a profound sense of leisure – of time.

Photo taken a few weeks back in Galveston. In this case, the “apple” is the Astros World Series Championship. Your apple today?

Thank you — it did!

This line from September, the First Day of School by Howard Nemerov:

“I know my hope, but do not know its form.”

True, no? I have in my mind what hope, or distress, or success, or failure… would feel or look like. I have formed some mental concept of what form they might take in a given circumstance, what might be “good” and what might be “bad.”. Yet what I have in my mind is nothing more than that, a concept, a thought, my own mental construct. I create those despite my experiennce that life constantly surprises me in its delivery. Sometimes “failure” has arrived looking like “success,” or as often, “success” arrives looking like “failure.”

“I know my hope, but do not know its form.”

Photo of a recent Austin early morning sky. The dappled pinkish hue in the sky doesn’t show up as well in the photo as in person, but then that may be part of DeMello’s point. Text from Anthony DeMello One Minute Wisdom.

I’m pretty sure I have used this in the past, but it was in my “ready to go” folder, so here it is — possibly again.

Photo taken a few years back from a kayak on the Frio River at Laity Lodge, near Leakey, Texas.

Photo taken in Galveston this summer, may have even used it previously. Can’t say the sentiment is one I religiously adhere to, but it is gaining ground.

Galveston photo, quote pulled from a Google black hole.

Galveston photo (note the brown sand and seaweed) taken on an early morning run, when this thought occurred to me.