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On Being with Krista Tippett is a public radio project delving into the human side of news stories + issues. Curated + edited by senior editor Trent Gilliss.

We publish guest contributions. We edit long; we scrapbook. We do big ideas + deep meaning. We answer questions.

We've even won a couple of Webbys + a Peabody Award.
From Parker Palmer’s column, "A Hymn to the Passing of Summer":
Here’s a poem that seems more beautiful to me every time I read it. It’s a poem to be read aloud, and slowly, a poem to be felt even more than understood, as one might feel a song…

Seasonby W.S. Merwin
This hour along the valley this light at the end     of summer lengthening as it begins to gothis whisper in the tawny grass this feather floating     in the air this house of half a life or sothis blue door open to the lingering sun this stillness     echoing from the rooms like an unfinished soundthis fraying of voices at the edge of the village     beyond the dusty gardens this breath of knowingwithout knowing anything this old branch from which     years and faces go on falling this presence alreadyfar away this restless alien in the cherished place     this motion with no measure this moment peopledwith absences with everything that I remember here     eyes the wheeze of the gate greetings birdsongs in winterthe heart dividing dividing and everything     that has slipped my mind as I consider the shadowall this has occurred to somebody else who has gone     as I am told and indeed it has happened againand again and I go on trying to understand     how that could ever be and all I know of themis what they felt in the light here in this late summer

(W.S. Merwin received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in both 1971 and 2009 and served as U.S. Poet Laureate in 2010-2011.)
From Parker Palmer’s column, "A Hymn to the Passing of Summer":
Here’s a poem that seems more beautiful to me every time I read it. It’s a poem to be read aloud, and slowly, a poem to be felt even more than understood, as one might feel a song…

Seasonby W.S. Merwin
This hour along the valley this light at the end     of summer lengthening as it begins to gothis whisper in the tawny grass this feather floating     in the air this house of half a life or sothis blue door open to the lingering sun this stillness     echoing from the rooms like an unfinished soundthis fraying of voices at the edge of the village     beyond the dusty gardens this breath of knowingwithout knowing anything this old branch from which     years and faces go on falling this presence alreadyfar away this restless alien in the cherished place     this motion with no measure this moment peopledwith absences with everything that I remember here     eyes the wheeze of the gate greetings birdsongs in winterthe heart dividing dividing and everything     that has slipped my mind as I consider the shadowall this has occurred to somebody else who has gone     as I am told and indeed it has happened againand again and I go on trying to understand     how that could ever be and all I know of themis what they felt in the light here in this late summer

(W.S. Merwin received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in both 1971 and 2009 and served as U.S. Poet Laureate in 2010-2011.)

From Parker Palmer’s column, "A Hymn to the Passing of Summer":

Here’s a poem that seems more beautiful to me every time I read it. It’s a poem to be read aloud, and slowly, a poem to be felt even more than understood, as one might feel a song…

Season
by W.S. Merwin

This hour along the valley this light at the end
     of summer lengthening as it begins to go
this whisper in the tawny grass this feather floating
     in the air this house of half a life or so
this blue door open to the lingering sun this stillness
     echoing from the rooms like an unfinished sound
this fraying of voices at the edge of the village
     beyond the dusty gardens this breath of knowing
without knowing anything this old branch from which
     years and faces go on falling this presence already
far away this restless alien in the cherished place
     this motion with no measure this moment peopled
with absences with everything that I remember here
     eyes the wheeze of the gate greetings birdsongs in winter
the heart dividing dividing and everything
     that has slipped my mind as I consider the shadow
all this has occurred to somebody else who has gone
     as I am told and indeed it has happened again
and again and I go on trying to understand
     how that could ever be and all I know of them
is what they felt in the light here in this late summer

(W.S. Merwin received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in both 1971 and 2009 and served as U.S. Poet Laureate in 2010-2011.)

Tagged: #sunrise #poetry
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Morning postcard from the enveloping arms of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Wingspread in Racine, Wisconsin. Absolutely brilliant.
Morning postcard from the enveloping arms of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Wingspread in Racine, Wisconsin. Absolutely brilliant.

Morning postcard from the enveloping arms of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Wingspread in Racine, Wisconsin. Absolutely brilliant.

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Greenland’s First Dawn

by Trent Gilliss, senior editor

Photo Still from "Return of the Sun"Photo still from “Return of the Sun”

"No matter what the weather is, we always have a will to live."

~Kaaleeraq Mathaeussen, Inuit fisherman

In a village of 4,000 people in northern Greenland, the sun rises for the first time after 43 days of total darkness. Juxtaposed against the beauty of this landscape of limited light, Return of the Sun explores the plight of an Inuit fisherman who finds himself adapting to the changing climate. Although his livelihood and that of his Inuit community is changing, the film shows their spirit remains rooted in kindness and of possibility.

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