For some reason, I felt I had to write today, right now, in fact; but I had no topic, no reason, nothing.... Well, I'm glad that I could count on my old friend poetry to give me an idea. I keyed "poem for a day" into google and I was rewarded - cast your words upon the waters and they will return - tenfold. I read several poems that came up, including Fern Hill - Dylan Thomas is the green fuse that drives not only the flower, but also the heart, certainly the writer's heart. He is the essence of Spring. But we are not there, yet, just a few more days before the eternal equinox, before Demeter rises on her chariot to claim her daughter Persephone from the underworld....and so...in this hiatus, I chose Mary Oliver, the quiet, understated, poet with the female voice...she is the patience, we need to wait for the full onslaught of Spring.
Here is the poem I chose...
Do you think of them as decoration?
Here are the maples, flashing.
And here are the oaks, holding on all winter
to their dry leaves.
And here are the pines, that will never fail,
until death, the instruction to be green.
And here are the willows, the first
to pronounce a new year.
May I invite you to revise your thoughts about them?
Oh, Lord, how we are all for invention and
But, I think
it would do us good if we would think about
these brothers and sisters, quietly and deeply.
The trees, the trees, just holding on
to the old, holy ways.
I have "tree people" come in every few years to do the work, my husband and I can't. They will attend to an old Maple...probably as old as I am, that is in decline...go figure. Maples in the city live for about 75 years. In the country they can live for 150 years or more. Makes you think.
I will have my Apple tree pruned, some limbs from a failing Lilac trimmed so it can re-generate, a Yew cut down to let in more light and a Rose of Sharon transplanted. I worry that the trees, which are trimmed, will hurt. I wonder, if a severed limb might have blossomed or borne fruit. Yes, I guess, I worry about my brothers and sisters. But mostly, I worry about somehow destroying the "old holy ways." The ways in which, we once respected trees, fostered them, protected them, helped them propagate. Will I be cursed by the Druids for lopping off a limb?
Just a few thoughts on the sanctity of nature.
The pictures? A few of my friends holding their collected breath
Breathe a sigh for Spring.
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