When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much
applause in the lecture room,
How soon unaccountable I became, tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars

- Walt Whitman

I hear the wind blow,
And I feel that it was worth being born just to hear the wind blow.

(Source: anarch)

Twice as big as the universe and androgynous

poetsorg says..

You know you love this Eileen Myles tote. Get yours at OR Books.

O, MY MY!

How shall I withhold my soul so that

it does not touch on yours?  How shall I

uplift it over you to other things?

Ah willingly would I by some

lost thing in the dark give it harbor

in an unfamiliar silent place

that does not vibrate on when your depths vibrate.

Yet everything that touches us, you and me,

takes us together as a bow’s stroke does,

that out of two strings draws a single voice.

Upon what instrument are we two spanned?

And what player has us in his hand?

O sweet song.

- Lovesong, by Rainer Maria Rilke -