heilege Nacht

Today's Poem of the Day is an oldie but goodie, quoted by people left empty from hard, cold facts, having enough of the talking, the postulating, the noise.

Mr Whitman says so well, "When I heard the learn'd astronomer...the proofs, the figures, the charts and deagrams...rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself...look'd up in perfect silence at the stars."

I love the silence. And the stars. Off we go to the porch, the woods, the tent, the park.

And a similar feeling of silent wonder arises for me at the feats of our brains: observing, gathering, seeing patterns, using words, using information to write books, build buildings, create the mechanisms for our stunning human activity.

Light is light: the (masquerading) smallest lights in the universe and the hot, blazing lights on Broadway.

My Research Design class tomorrow night, using Earl Babbie's sociological research textbook. People and things. Silence and thought. Finding patterns and leaving the patterns behind. Stillness and action. It's all heilege.

I love life between the contradictions.