by Tim Girvin | Apr 23, 2005 | Writings
At: fall of night, as all silences emerge, windless, there is still stirring. Moon beckons, a trail to her as the water shimmers not only with her fragile splinterings, but a fishing constellation sparkles, another rippling, flickering her reaching strokes like...
by Tim Girvin | Apr 14, 2005 | Writings
Right now, there is merely a sprinkling of rain, that I can hear H E R E. And sense, as it falls on my shoulders. T H E R E: a wild turkey calls others — and chattering: as birds begin morning song in acknowledging the openings to light, in the e m e r g e n c e...
by Tim Girvin | Apr 10, 2005 | Writings
The Symbolism of Archery The marksman hitteth the mark partly by pulling, partly by letting go. -Egyptian proverb — In any reaching I pull inwards, I let go, outwards. In a relationship, with another, my personal drawings pull this person to me — then,...
by Tim Girvin | Jan 14, 2005 | Writings
A remembrance: Matthew Girvin — I’ve lit them before, six candles on six folds of stone, rocks standing like a mongolian marker, visited by pilgrims each casting his stony, amuletic lot. Say a prayer and circle the cairns, the ovoo, the menhir, the...
by Tim Girvin | Jan 11, 2005 | Writings
There is a moment when I’m feeling that intensity of things being — somehow: right; and the indwelling of spirit, that enthusiasm — the en theos, in god, is there. But, to the realm of controlling destinies I don’t know if it is there, this...
