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Cindy H.

Tempe, AZ, USA
female, age 52
married, 3 children
Speaks: english
Joined Feb 14, 2007
What I Want to Do:


 
Favorite Poetry
The Sun  by Mary OliverHave you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone--
and how it slides again
out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance--
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love--
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there,
empty-handed--
or have you too
turned from this world--
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?
 

The Summer Day  by Mary Oliver  

 Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?




The Swan by Mary Oliver

 Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?

Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air -

An armful of white blossoms,

A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned

into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,

Biting the air with its black beak?

Did you hear it, fluting and whistling

A shrill dark music - like the rain pelting the trees - like a waterfall

Knifing down the black ledges?

And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds -

A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet

Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?

And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?

And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?

And have you changed your life?



Why I Wake Early  by Mary Oliver

Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety –
best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light –
good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.




Wild Geese  by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.



The Kookaburras  by Mary Oliver In every heart there is a coward and a procrastinator.
In every heart
there is a god of flowers, just waiting
to stride out of a cloud and lift its wings.
The kookaburras,
pressed against the edge of their cage,
asked me to open the door.
Years later I remember how I didn't do it,
how instead I walked away.
They had the brown eyes of soft-hearted dogs.
They didn't want to do anything so extraordinary,
only to fly home to their river.
By now I suppose the great darkness has covered them.
As for myself,
I am not yet a god of even the palest flowers.
Nothing else has changed either.
Someone tosses their white bones to the dung-heap.
The sun shines on the latch of their cage.
I lie in the dark,
my heart pounding.




The Journey   by Mary Oliver
 
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice - - -
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
'Mend my life!'
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations - - -
though their melancholy
was terrible.  It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.

But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do - - -

Determined to save
the only life you could save.




Song of the Builders   by Mary Oliver

On a summer morning
I sat down
on a hillside
to think about God -
a worthy pastime.
Near me, I saw
a single cricket;
it was moving the grains of the hillside
this way and that way.
How great was its energy,
how humble its effort.
Let us hope
it will always be like this,
each of us going on
in our inexplicable ways
building the universe.










 
Personal Professional Contact Singles
Joined Feb 14, 2007 Activist Aspirations undeclared 
Here for Meeting Friends 
Group Host of none yet
Groups none yet
Hometown Illinois 
Homepage http://mypagetoday.blogspot.com  
Birthday Sept 25, 1962  
Languages english  
About Me
  Introduce yourself to Cindy
  Lifestyle
Pets Abigail Bloom  
Activist Aspirations
Political Leaning Depends
Religions christian  
Eating Habits  
Wild Fact About Me
My Philosophy Treat others the way you want to be treated.
What Gives Me Hope The beauty of nature.
If I were Mayor, I'd make the world a better place by
What/who changed my life and why
What Bugs Me Judgemental and Hypocritical people  
Passions MY CHILDREN!!!  
Inspirations  
What Scares Me  
  Favorites
Role Models My mother and My Father  
Quotation Even when we're apart, we'll be looking at the same sky.
Interests Geology, My Dog - Abigail Bloom, Bible Study, Antiques/Collectibles, Crafts, Photography, Genealogy-Family History, Writing, Letters, Stories, Poetry, Reading  
Books Louisa May Alcott, Mary Oliver's Poetry  
Music almost all..depends on my mood, Pop music, guitar instrumentals, piano instrumental, Rock and Roll, country music  
Movies An Unfinished LIfe, The man from Snowy River  
TV Shows The Gail King Show, Dog Whisperer, Supernanny, Dr. Phil, Oprah Winfrey Network, Food Network Star, Celebrity Ghost Stories, Ghost Adventures, Three and a Half Men!, What Not to Wear, How Do I Look?, Hoarders, Clean House, Color Splash, House Hunters &amp, House Hunters  
Favorite Foods General Tso's Chicken, BBQ RIBS, sweet peas, corn on the cob, homemade noodles, mashed potatoes &amp, gravy, pizza  
Favorite Places The Ocean/Beach, The Creek on a hot summer day!, Mesa Verde and other Indian ruins, The Painted Desert, The Grand Canyon, Libraries and Bookstores, Colorado-Rocky Mountains, The Woods in the Spring  
Can't Live Without Family  
  Introduce yourself to Cindy
 
My Thank You Notes
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