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How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.

Theodore Roethke

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Theodore Roethke
Age: 55 †
Born: 1908
Born: May 25
Died: 1963
Died: August 1
Poet
Teacher
Writer
Saginaw
Michigan
Unwind
Slowly
Pure
Spirit
Ends
Doe
Body

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Love is not love until love's vulnerable.
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And soon a branch, part of a hidden scene,The leafy mind, that long was tightly furled,Will turn its private substance into green,And young shoots spread upon our inner world.
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Being, not doing, is my first joy.
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A too explicit elucidation in education destroys much of the pleasure of learning. There should be room for sly hinters, masters of suggestion.
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The self says, I am The heart says, I am less The spirit says, you are Nothing.
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A terrible violence of creation,A flash into the burning heart of the abominableYet if we wait, unafraid, beyond the fearful instant,The burning lake turns into a forest pool,The fire subsides into rings of water,A sunlit silence.
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Long live the weeds that overwhelm My narrow vegetable realm! The bitter rock, the barren soil That force the son of man to toil All things unholy, marred by curse, The ugly of the universe.
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When I go mad, I call my friends by phone: I am afraid they might think they're alone.
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Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.
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Death was not. I lived in a simple drowse:Hands and hair moved through a dream of wakening blossoms.Rain sweetened the cave and the dove still calledThe flowers leaned on themselves, the flowers in hollowsAnd love, love sang toward.
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The poet: would rather eat a heart than a hambone.
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Live in a perpetual great astonishment.
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And I walked, I walked through the light air I moved with the morning.
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All lovers live by longing, and endure: Summon a vision and declare it pure.
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I am overwhelmed by the beautiful disorder of poetry, the eternal virginity of words.
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Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire
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I came where the river Ran over stones My ears knew An early joy. And all the waters Of all the streams Sang in my veins That summer day.
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A mind too active is no mind at all.
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In a dark time, the eye begins to see / I meet my shadow in the deepening shade...Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.
Theodore Roethke
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I wish I could find an event that meant as much as simple seeing.
Theodore Roethke