Sunday, February 21, 2010

Rainy Morning

The clear bead at the center changes everything.

There is no edge to my loving now.

I've heard it said, there's a window

that opens from one mind to another.

But if there's no wall, there's no need

for fitting the window, or the latch.


Drawing - colored pencil on black paper, 2002.


  1. hi jenny stevning. the opening out . . . no walls . . . we build them for protection . . . and protect ourselves from all manner of truth and love. steven

  2. This is wonderful, especially on the heels of your post yesterday, which I didn't comment on because it sent me off on a search for The Swell Season.

    Rumi directly influenced my post last night.

    I really, really like this drawing.

  3. Hi Jenny,

    That's two lovely poems by Rumi in one survey of my blogs, yours and steven's. I love Rumi's poetry. This one's a gem. And then he inspired Polli's wonderful post, too.

    Have you noticed, as I have, that we must take care to refrain from wall-building---especially with those closest to us?

    It seems paradoxical that we find ourselves wanting to be masons of suffering, but, well, again, I'll only speak for myself, that's where I really have to keep watch.

  4. Dan, I had a conversation about that "masons of suffering" concept just last night. (Great way of putting it, by the way.) It makes sense when you consider that it's the ego's method of self-preservation.

  5. It seems paradoxical that we find ourselves wanting to be 'masons of suffering'

    wow....lovely picture...lovely commentary...lovely hands and feet on the character...

  6. ooohhhh, two hands, one foot!

  7. Very nice. I love the way she is protected from the rain by her umbrella. Nice.