Sunday, 12 May 2024

Realization. The Mind Cupboard



                                                                Perhaps summer has arrived...

Dear Reader,


Tulips are spring blooming.  The flowers are usually large, showy and brightly coloured, generally red, orange, pink, yellow or white.

The name 'tulip' is thought to be derived from a Persian word for turban, which may have been thought to resemble by those who discovered it.

Flowering in the spring they become dormant in the summer once the flowers and leaves die back, emerging above ground as a shoot from the underground bulb in early spring.

Growing in much of the Near East and Central Asia tulips have probably been cultivated in Persia from the 10th century.  By the 15th century tulips were among the most prized flowers becoming the symbol of the later Ottomans.

The most known meaning of tulips is perfect and deep love.  As tulips are a classic flower that has been loved by many for centuries they have been attached with the meaning of love.  According to superstition if you dream about white tulips it can mean that you are about to embark on a new journey and a fresh start.

                                                                                  *

   

From Dorothy Wordsworth  1800  May 17th in Westmorland   

'Incessant rain from morning till night.......The Skobby (chaffinch)sat quietly in its nest, rocked by the wind, and beaten by the rain.'

 From Gerard Manley Hopkins  1874 May 17th in Surrey

 ......to Combe Wood to see and gather bluebells, which we did, but fell in bluehanded with a gamekeeper, which is a humbling thing to do.   Then we heard a nightingale utter a few strains- strings of very liquid gurgles.'

                                                                                      *

 

Realization

 

 

I am

part of the whole.

 

I am

in the first light,

the bird’s first song,

the sun’s first dart

through the curtain crack,

in the music of summer trees.

 

I am

part of the alpha,

the birth,

the awakening,

the growing and spreading,

the throbbing of life.

 

I am part of all suffering

hands blood-stained.

Part of love

humanity shares and

of all good things.

 

I am

part of the omega,

the closing, the last light,

the call back from the dark

to the bright, eternal night.

                                                                 *

 

 

 

This is the final time I will put this poem on the blog.


The Mind Cupboard
 
My mind cupboard overflows
with unwanted debris.
It needs a spring clean.
 
I will brush away the cobwebs
of cheerless thoughts.
Scrub out the stains of childhood.
 
I will replace the brass hooks
corroded with salt tears,
empty all the screams
hoarded through the years.
 
I will replace the accumulated ashes
from the worn shelf-paper,
with virgin tissue.
 
I will chase and catch the wasps,
relieve them of their stings.
I will refill this cupboard
with love, and learnt, brighter things.
 
                        *
 
 
with very best wishes, Patricia
 
 
 
 

 

 


                                                                   

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