A body awake in the world.

 There once was a time

when the beauty and the music

were all within me.

I sat and listened

possessed by the melody,

a song in my thoughts.

This was a time when

I felt a joy that knew not

its own origin.

A pleasure, a joy, 

an existence which I had

not procured myself.

I sat on a rock

wrestling with the melody

that possesses me.

Astonished, I saw

that I am dealt with by 

superior powers.

That this earth is a

musical instrument and 

I its audience. 

Awake to music

my depths revealed to myself

as the world goes by.

And without effort

calmed like a lake when there is

not a breath of wind.

I touch the world and

feel exquisite pleasure -- my

Maker blessing me.

 I am a body

connected to all bodies

awake in the world.

Zphx

20190521/20220112

May 23, 2020

June 22, 1851 ("The world is a musical instrument. The very touch affords an exquisite pleasure. I awake to its music with the calmness of a lake when there is not a breath of wind. . . .Sometimes we are clarified and calmed healthily, as never before in our lives. We become like a still lake of purest crystal. All the world goes by us and is reflected in our deeps. And without effort our depths are revealed to ourselves.”)

July 16, 1851("This earth was the most glorious musical instrument, and I was audience to its strains. To have such sweet impressions made on us, such ecstasies begotten of the breezes ! I can remember how I was astonished. I said to myself, — I said to others, — " There comes into my mind such an indescribable, infinite, all-absorbing, divine, heavenly pleasure, a sense of elevation and expansion, and [I] have had nought to do with it. I perceive that I am dealt with by superior powers. This is a pleasure, a joy, an existence which I have not procured myself.”)

May 23, 1854 ("There was a time when the beauty and the music were all within, and I sat and listened to my thoughts, and there was a song in them. I sat for hours on rocks and wrestled with the melody which possessed me. I sat and listened by the hour to a positive though faint and distant music . . .. When I walked with a joy which knew not its own origin.”)

If I were to discover

that a certain kind of stone

by the pond-shore was affected,

say partially disintegrated,

by a particular natural sound,

as of a bird or insect –

I see that one

could not be completely described

without describing the other.

I am that rock by the pond-side.

February 20, 1857


A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, I am a rock
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Reminiscence and Prompting
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, I love you like I love the sky
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Serene as the Sky.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, A body awake in the world.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau

"A book, each page written in its own season,

out-of-doors, in its own locality.”

~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2022