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Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire

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
Wander
Bones
Fire
Pain
Lost
Like
Wanders

More quotes by Theodore Roethke

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By daily dying, I have come to be.
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But when I breath with the birds, The spirit of wrath becomes the spirit of blessings, And the dead begin from their dark to sing in my sleep.
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Who rise from flesh to spirit know the fall: The word outleaps the world, and light is all.
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All lovers live by longing, and endure: Summon a vision and declare it pure.
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What is madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?
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What falls away is always. And is near.
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I lose and find myself in the long water. I am gathered together once more.
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We think by feeling. What is there to know?
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How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.
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You must believe: a poem is a holy thing - a good poem, that is. The poem, even a short time after being written, seems no miracle unwritten, it seems something beyond the capacity of the gods.
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Being, not doing, is my first joy.
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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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What have I done, dear God, to deserve this perpetual feeling that I'm almost ready to begin something really new?
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A mind too active is no mind at all.
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In this place of light: he dares to live Who stops being a bird, yet beats his wings Against the immense immeasurable emptiness of things.
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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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The fields stretch out in long unbroken rows. We walk aware of what is far and close. Here distance is familiar as a friend. The feud we kept with space comes to an end.
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Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt keeps breathing a small breath.
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I have gone into the waste lonely places
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The poet: would rather eat a heart than a hambone.
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