Tenho curtido vários reencontros, no Brasil, nos últimos meses. Há poucos dias, por exemplo, voltei a me encontrar com a poesia de Thereza Kolbe. Em 2016, numa livraria do bairro Gonzaga em Santos, encontrei um dos seus poemários, Livro do Rio (2005). Li alguns poemas na livraria, gostei deles, e levei o poemário comigo para … Continue reading Thereza Kolbe: Mensagem
Quise disfrutar con plenitud del Pacífico, en antiguos territorios huetares, antes de regresar al Atlántico, en antiguos territorios lenape, hoy brooklynenses. Acá comparto un registro, en imágenes, de algunos momentos y vivencias. 10 de agosto: Playa Herradura, Garabito Conchas, arena Madera, piedra Atardecer 11 de agosto: Playa Hermosa, Garabito Este Oeste Por la mañana Atardecer … Continue reading Imágenes pacíficas
A new friend has arrived to enrich my life. Richard Wagamese is speaking to me from the pages of his Embers: One Ojibway's Meditations, a poetic photobook of vital philosophy. I have welcomed his arrival at La Libélula, a sacred land in Tárcoles, Puntarenas--sacred to me, at least, and to the animate beings that are … Continue reading Wagamese: Light
I have been gazing at the mosques of Istanbul--elegant, with grand semi-spherical domes and their lean minarets. These point heavenward, as if they could pierce the sky's grander azure dome. What do they mean, at least to me? One of Rumi's rubaiyat has given me the key to interpretation. They symbolize not ambition but liberation--that … Continue reading Rumi: Liberation
You walk among the spirits of flying dervishes and the whispers of their mystical joy on the anniversary of Rumi's death. How many lives have been loved, how many loves have been lived, how many flying hearts have turned and danced in his land since 17 December 1273? How many dances have been danced, how … Continue reading Rumi: Rubaiyat at Random
I have been biking to the piers at Sunset Park to read Siddhartha while facing the upper bay of the Hudson River's estuary. I knew that Siddhartha's encounter with the river would be the tale's most moving chapter for me. I wanted to prepare for it by contemplating, as I read, the ebb and flow … Continue reading Siddhartha by the River
Lao Tzu, Rumi, David, Emerson, Wordsworth, Gibran, and Mary Oliver have taught me, over the years, that I never finish reading a book of wisdom poetry. When I read the last psalm, song, or poem, I simply put the book down for a while--sometimes for a few years--until one day whim, genius, or spiritual thirst … Continue reading Mary Oliver: American Primitive
Fortalecido por los cuidados del ángel junto al enebro, Elías caminó cuarenta días y cuarenta noches a través del desierto para llegar al Monte Horeb. Huyendo de sus perseguidores, se refugió en una cueva. Allí escuchó a la Voz Divina preguntarle: "¿Qué haces aquí?" Elías salió de la cueva y dio su respuesta (I Reyes … Continue reading ¿Qué hacés aquí?
Elías desfalleció bajo la sombra de un enebro. Jezabel (vicisitudes, tribulaciones) lo perseguía para matarlo y Elías huía al Monte Horeb. Después de andar todo un día por el desierto, abatido tras luchas, decepciones y traiciones, se sentó bajo un enebro y le dijo a su Dios que quería morirse: "¡Basta ya!" Se acostó y, … Continue reading Ángeles junto al enebro
Hace un año nuestra Luz pasó de la Tierra al Cielo. Encontré su Biblia, que leía fielmente, sobre el mueble de la cocina en su casa, al lado de la silla que acostumbraba ocupar en su mesa. En esa Biblia dejó marcado el Salmo 36, donde el poeta David escribe: Porque contigo está el manantial … Continue reading Luz
Daniel G. Campos 