Twilight at Holden Beach. One last romp with the waves. Photography copyrighted by Barbara Mattio 2013
I find, that for me, there is a moment, one pure, crystalline moment when the day begins to fade and the night begins to wrap its arms around you, that brings the bitter sweetness pain and love. I don’t know why it happens. I have experienced it since I was a child. There are times that this moment brings tears to my eyes. Not sad or happy tears. I believe they are the tears of knowing that in those precious seconds, you live.
Twilight reminds us of our invisible and silken thread which connects us to the Universe. The air smells pure. You take a breath and know that all that matters is the fact you are alive and you are in every living thing on this planet and they are all in you. You might be sitting on a porch, walking along a beach, standing breathing the mountain air or driving along a highway, but this moment will flutter your heart. You are alive.
Shakespeare was the English bard and controversy not withstanding, he moves us as few others ever have . He was an expert in the craft of words. He crafted them for the common people and for Kings and Queens. For me there is an American bard. It Is Walt Whitman. While I don’t write poetry I love to read it and Whitman is my default poet when my heart and soul truly needs comfort.
I hope you will enjoy these selections as much as I do.
A Twilight Song
As I sit in twilight late alone by the flickering oak flame,
Musing on long-pass’d war-scenes–of the countless buried unknown soldiers,
Of the vacant names, as unindented air’s and sea’s–the unreturn’d,
The brief truce after battle, with grim burial-squads, and the deep-fill’d trenches
Of gather‘d dead from all America, North, South East, West, whence they came up,
From wooded Maine, New England’s farms, from fertile Pennsylvania, Illinois, Ohio,
From the measureless West, Virginia, the South, the Carolinas, Texas,
(even here in my room-shadows and half-lights in the noiseless flickering flames,
Again I see the stalwart ranks on-filing, rising—–
I hear the rhythmic tramp of the armies;)
You million unwrit names all, all-you dark bequest from all the war,
A special verse for you–a flash of duty long neglected–
your mystic roll strangely gather‘d here,
Each name recall‘d by me from out the darkness and death’s ashes,
Henceforth to, deep,deep within my heart recording, for many a future year,
Your mystic roll entire of unknown names, or North or South,
Embalm’d with love in this twilight song.:
—Walt Whitman
“Come, said my Soul,
Such verses for my Body let us write (for we are one)
That should I after death invisibly return,
Or, long, long hence, in other spheres, There to some group of mates the chanting resuming,
(Tallying Earth’s soil, trees, winds, and tumultuous waves,)
Ever with pleas’d smile I may keep on,
Ever and ever yet the verses owning–as, first, I here and now,
Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my name.
Walt Whitman
The beach at twilight. Photgraph copyrighted by Barbara Mattio
Blue Ridge Mountain twilight. Photograph copyrighted by Barbara Mattio
Seven Sisters Mountain twilight, Black Mountain.
Photograph copyrighted by Barbara Mattio
idealisticrebel 
Reblogged this on The ObamaCrat.Com™ and commented:
Beautiful photos and words Me. Barbara.
Thank you. I hope you are well and enjoying the sun and water. Send me a ray while you’re at it. LOL
Barbara
I returned to Cedar Rapids on Tuesday, it’s finally in the 50’s there so I can stand to be in the Iowa area. Can’t take too much of the Florida heat during spring/summer there. I’m good, and I hope you are as well….and healing well. 😉
Now see I have to stop thinking of you in the warm sun. LOL. I am healing slow but sure. I wish to go record that the golden years are a myth! I think young people need to embrace life, living to the fullest. Make their mark on the world and later they can try all of the things in retirement there wasn’t time for before. In the years I was a psych nurse and helping to start a DV center and design a legal unit to advocate for women. There was no time for art or writing. When I was awarded a place in the Marquess Book of American Women, I finally realized that I had made a difference and even saved some lives, so it counted. This journey counted. Not with my art, I feel I can still add to the world, just in a different way. Perhaps a gentler way. Fore instance, my mobility is a little impaired so my marching and picketing and marching are over. With my blog I feel I found my voice again. I am not waiting to die. It is part of the cycle of life and I will be fine when the wheel turns, I am still living and loving and embracing life. How about you? What makes you tick?
Thats a good question Ms. Barbara…..what makes me tick…..racism, oppression, lying politicians, injustice…..and stupid people,,,,,all those things “make me tick”…..Just like the ticking time bomb. 😉
Oh, so beautiful!
Reblogged this on Spirit In Action and commented:
as always idealisticrebel’s words connect beyond the ordinary to things you know deep in your spirit but don’t always think of or discuss;-) I was also entranced to see a photo from Holden Beach where I spent many a joyous week of my childhood, both summer and autumn. Tho I imagine the land looks much different than the drifting dunes, and few clapboard rental cottages sprinkled among them that it displayed in the 1970’s, the sea has not changed a bit;-)
So amazing you guys, whose blogs I love spend your time in places I have either loved or had a connection to! Florida is indeed the mad misery most of the summer, tho not so much in the places where they haven’t managed to pave over it yet! in a nice oak hammock close to the bayou, or the Gulf it’s always comfortable-aside from the mosquitoes of course;-)
My brother went to college in cedar rapids, and tho I’ve never been there I loved the pictures of snow.
Thank you for the beautiful images, both in the words and in the pictures-your blog is such a breath of fresh air in a world where so much is distanced from the heart!
I thank you and you are a wonderful crafter of words. Hugs, Barbara
The images, words, exquisite light of love on this post come alive…
Thank you, Barb:-)
Thank you. Those moments always stand out in my mind.
Beautiful Twilight thoughts Barbara and wonderful photos to go with this post..
I agree there is something magical about twilight. I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains and know the beauty of twilight here. Thanks.