Climbed Mt Hermon
from Caesarea Philippi
only a few went with Him
Peter James and John
Jesus went to the highest
seen by the others
glowing whiteness
vision of Moses
& Elijah
a voice
This
is
my
Son!
Listen to Him.
_______________
photo of Mt Hermon in public domain
from Funk and Wagnalls New Standard Encyclopedia
Space between
to support
framed
together
when the space
is too great
pieces of wood
or metal
resist
stress or stain
of tension
which
bridge
truss
construction
king truss
upper chord
vertical support
We leave a few things behind
but take much away
Not material items
or memory of the best places to go
A red sunset along the Seine
that lights the buttresses
of the Notre Dame Cathedral
the walls turned crimson
Small boats pushed with long sticks
by boys at the fountain
Somber look of statues in the Louvre
seen only from the outside looking in
People wait by the glass pyramid
formations of people heavy buildings
flowing water brought together
in a still life in Paris
Cafe de Paris a quaint little space
under the shadow of the ruined fort
in Montrichard
moules and frites
in such a tasty creme
of onion and garlic
chives sprinkled over the sauce
which lies at the bottom of the bowl
salt and pepper too
sauce is trapped among the shells
some have fallen out and bathe
in the richness of this simple broth
served with baguette tre bien
In a village outside of Pont Aven we are greeted at the creperie
by the family Valmes. Mother and father, sister and her husband,
their daughter and her husband Faberce, and Danielle and Fabion.
It is a surprise to see all of the family together.
The mother and father do not speak English. The brother-in-law
is retired Royal Navy officer and he has been to New York, Los
Angeles and New Orleans. He knows some English. We talk using a
small dictionary Francais Anglais English French. He shows me
his hand that once held a lance in a war in North Africa.
I want to know more of this French war he speaks of but I do not
know the language and the little dictionary we hold will not contain
all the words needed to talk of wars and ships, the economy of
governments or imperialism in Africa.
Monsieur of Brest sits next to me eating his crepes with lanced
hands holding the knife and fork. He shows me how to eat the crepe
and recommends the saucisson campagne, the sausage of the farmer who
makes it in the countryside. He translates the phrase as sausage
of the farmer. I look to the book for a word to word translation
sausage of the countryside. With his healed hands he demonstrates
the act of the farmer stuffing sausage. We drink the cider that was
also made by a farmer from this countryside.
Here the daughter of Angeles carries on the traditional business
of her mother as her mother before her did. The batter is poured
on large flat heated plates and spread with long spatula in a circular
motion until it is amazingly thin. At just the right time it is
flipped and the egg, if an agg was ordered “crepes oeuf”, is opened
over the crepe and the egg falls in the middle. The white is spread
over the crepe until it too is very thin and the heat permeates the
crepe and cooks the egg. Cheese is sprinkled over it and then folded
from all four corners. Served fresh from this woman of the countryside.
The sun of Pont Aven brightens the sailboat to a blue
deeper than the Van Gogh sky of Champs de ble
Blue sailboat moves along the river L’Aven
the light presses it on and on
like wind in sails its loft making shadow
that leans further into the movement of the day
Here in Port Manech can you see
day ride on into its own demise
with acceptual strength
and boldness only to disappear into the sea
slowly into the blackest shadow
of night
Here in Canay everyone has the baguette
a small boy carries bundles of fresh sticks
followed by little girls who hold baskets
Old men stand in the doorways
women pass by with baskets of yaourt and creme
one baguette or two balanced on top
There is a poem here
moving along the street of Canay
going this way and that
carrying the baguette
wordshophop 