Monday, November 12, 2018

Marie Bortolotto 2018


A bird in a secluded grove sings like a flute
Willows sway gracefully with their golden threads.
The mountain valley grows the quieter as the clouds return.
A breeze brings along the fragrance of the apricot flowers.
For a whole day I have sat here encompassed by peace,
Till my mind is cleansed in and out of all cares and idle thoughts.
I wish to tell you how I feel, but words fail me.
If you come to this grove, we can compare notes.

Ch'an master Fa-yen (法眼 Hõgen) (The Golden Age of Zen)

Sunday, October 21, 2018

"Dream Mountains" by Marie Bortolotto 2018

by rivers, then by mountains,
I find my way home;
when last here,
I had no thought or care
for rivers or for mountains.

- Michael McClintock, Tanka poetry

"I just have a dream mountain under the eyelids, 
this is my breath, my life".

- Voytek Kurtyka (Wojciech Kurtyka), 
inspiring Polish Alpinist b. 1947

Every move is a creation,
Maintaining the delicate balance is a creation,
The line is a creation,
Survival is a creation,
Freedom is a creation. 

- Voytek Kurtyka (Wojciech Kurtyka),
Polish Alpinist

I see one single suitable role for my life’s work: 
for it to be a gift to others. 

- Voytek Kurtyka (Wojciech Kurtyka),
Polish Alpinist

Friday, October 19, 2018

Marie Bortolotto

When I Met My Muse

I glanced at her and took my glasses
off—they were still singing. They buzzed
like a locust on the coffee table and then
ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the
sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and
knew that nails up there took a new grip
on whatever they touched. “I am your own
way of looking at things,” she said. “When
you allow me to live with you, every
glance at the world around you will be
a sort of salvation.” And I took her hand.

- William Stafford, American poet (1914 - 1993)

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Marie Bortolotto 2018

"You breathe it in the summer air,
You see it in the green wild woods,
It nestles in the first spring buds.

it is poetry, poetry everywhere—
It nestles in the violets fair,
It peeps out in the first spring grass—
Things without poetry are very scarce."


Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Marie Bortolotto 2018

Marie Bortolotto 2018

Marie Bortolotto 2018

Marie Bortolotto 2018

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Marie Bortolotto 2018

Marie Bortolotto 2018

Overcome with pity for this world,
My tears obscure my sight;
I wonder, can it be the moon
Whose melancholy light
Has saddened me to-night?

Saigyo Hoshi, Japanese Monk, and Poet, A.D. 1115-1188

Saturday, July 14, 2018