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Showing posts with the label inspiration

Something to think about

With age comes wisdom - or so I've heard. But my own experience in life often makes me question that. Still, we'd like to believe that we do learn from our experiences and maybe even become just a wee bit wiser as we get older. A friend sent me this email of "Lessons that we learn as we age." See if any of them ring a bell with you. ~~~ Age 5 : I've learned that I like my teacher because she cries when we sing "Silent Night." Age 7 : I've learned that our dog doesn't want to eat my broccoli either. Age 9 : I've learned that when I wave to people in the country, they stop what they are doing and wave back. Age 12 : I've learned that just when I get my room the way I like it, Mom makes me clean it up again. Age 14 : I've learned that if you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering someone else up. Age 15 : I've learned that although it's hard to admit it, I'm secretly glad my parents are strict with me. Age 2...

One daffodil does not a spring make

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One daffodil doesn't make a spring in our wintry hearts. It needs a leucojum, too. And maybe a butterfly or two. But for the poet, William Wordsworth, all it took was a crowd of daffodils to rouse him from his lonely state and make him rejoice in being alive. And that is the very essence of spring. I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud BY  WILLIAM WORDSWORTH I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch ...

The annoying thing about history books

One of the things that I find unutterably annoying about history books is their insistence upon dwelling on wars.  To read most history books, you would think that nothing of importance ever happened without battles, bloodshed, people dying. And yet the advance of the human race from bare survival to thriving as the most successful species on the planet has been the result of a much quieter revolution and evolution. The advance from wandering around gathering wild fruits and roots and seeds to settling down and growing them in one spot. The invention and development of tools and shelters and medicines to make life easier. For the most part, you don't see monuments to those kind of things. No, such edifices are only erected for battles and for the men who fight them. And so, when I read this poem today, I thought, "There are places like this all over the world. Places where no battles happened and the 'only heroic thing is the sky'." At the Un-National Monument Alo...

The trees say, "It's time to begin afresh."

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The fig tree is budding. The Trees by Philip Larkin The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said; The recent buds relax and spread, Their greenness is a kind of grief. Is it that they are born again And we grow old? No, they die too, Their yearly trick of looking new Is written down in rings of grain. Yet still the unresting castles thresh In fullgrown thickness every May. Last year is dead, they seem to say, Begin afresh, afresh, afresh. The Collected Poems   by Philip Larkin The trees in my part of the world had a very rough time of it last year. Thousands of them died due to the drought. But now the survivors have had their winter's rest and they are ready to put all of that behind them. The rains have come and the trees have drunk deep. "Last year is dead, they seem to say," and if they could speak, this would probably be their advice to us: The past is dead. Time to "Begin afresh, afresh, afresh. Blueberry buds.

Why plant a tree

"I can't stop the destruction of the Amazon rainforest, but I can plant a tree."                                                                      - Poet Laureate W.S. Merwin  The poet W.S. Merwin draws much of the inspiration for his poetry from the world of Nature. In that, I find that I am like Merwin for my inspiration, too, comes from Nature. Recently, also, I am inspired by Merwin's poetry. Thus the circle is complete. My daughter brought this Merwin poem to my attention. I like it very much. It speaks to me. I hope it will inspire you, too. Place by W.S. Merwin On the last day of the world  I would want to plant a tree what for  not for the fruit the tree that bears the fruit  is not the one that was planted I want the tree that stands  in the earth for the first time with the su...