III. Home
Here is a thing my heart wishes the world had more of:
I heard it in the air of one night when I listened
To a mother singing softly to a child restless and angry in the darkness.
—Carl Sandburg, from "Poems Done on a Late Night Car"
My Garden—like the Beach—
Denotes there be—a Sea—
That's Summer—
Such as These—the Pearls
She fetches—such as Me
—Emily Dickinson, "My Garden—like the Beach"
***
Good greetings from all of us at SteinerBooks!—Thank you for your support, for reading and for sharing, and may your summer garden, in soul or soil, prove abundant.
—JSL
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, from "A Psalm of Life"
***
High-sun, long days—summer is here at last! A wonderful time of year to step outside and read the book of nature (or perhaps a book).
Best wishes for your summer, John-Scott
Frail the white rose and frail are
Her hands that gave,
Whose soul is sere and paler
Than time's wan wave.
Rose-frail and fair—yet frailest
A wonder wild
In gentle eyes thou veilest,
My blue-veined child.
—James Joyce, “A Flower Given to My Daughter”
***
Wishing good cheer and steadfastness to all the fathers and sons and daughters of fathers. In thankfulness, John-Scott
Like the stamen inside a flower
The steeple stands in lovely blue
And the day unfolds around its needle;
The flock of swallows that circles the steeple
Flies there each day through the same blue air
That carries their cries from me to you;
We know how high the sun is now
As long as the roof of the steeple glows,
The roof that’s covered with sheets of tin;
Up there in the wind, where the wind is not
Turning the vane of the weathercock,
The weathercock silently crows in the wind.
—Friedrich Hölderlin, from “In Lovely Blue” (trans. George Kalogeris)
***
Tied as it is to the moveable feast of Easter, Whitsun (or Pentecost) is thus also a moveable feast, though, it seems, one that is increasingly less prominent in the collective consciousness of Christendom (a "place" that is also, it seems, increasingly less conscious of itself).
Whitsun, of course, is a festival of the Spirit, and of community, of communal (spiritual) understanding that even transcends language.
In considering the life's work of Rudolf Steiner, it's not hard to understand why some have remarked on its overall Whitsun-like or Pentecostal nature. This is something, perhaps, to reflect on from time to time.
It can also be interesting to read, with this in mind (or not), the lecture courses given by Rudolf Steiner right at Whitsun, such as, for instance, the Study in the Philosophy of Thomas Aquinas given in May 1920, The Redemption of Thinking (CW 72), as well as the Spiritual Foundations for the Renewal of Agriculture (CW 327) lectures given exactly 100 years ago (June 7-20, 1924), which were the original inspiration of what became the worldwide organic movement, and, more consciously, the biodynamic movement.
And speaking of Whitsun (which was three weeks ago, on May 19), the short earthly biography of Kaspar Hauser is also linked with the Whitsun festival, appearing as he did, seemingly out of nowhere, on the Monday after Whitsun, in Nuremberg, in 1828. (That was on May 20, 1828, meaning Whitsun fell on May 19 that year as well.) Five years later, on the Monday before Whitsun, he was confirmed at The Chapel of the Knights of the Swan in Ansbach.
We're pleased to announce this week the publication in English of Peter Selg's monograph study, The Confirmation of Kaspar Hauser, where you can read more about the significance of that event, and other things besides.
With warm greetings from all of us at SteinerBooks,
—John-Scott
Truth—is as old as God—
His Twin identity
And will endure as long as He
A Co-Eternity—
And perish on the Day
Himself is borne away
From Mansion of the Universe
A lifeless Deity.
—Emily Dickinson, “Truth—is as old as God”
***
Welcome to June! The summer is leaping at the door, and I am glad to see it out there. May your gardens flourish—JSL
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
—Gerard Manley Hopkins, “Spring”
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