Poem: Paradise (please comment)
Feet hidden in autumn leaves,
suddenly paradise.
-
Quiet and calm,
the light soft,
lighting a maple’s golden crown.
Trees, small plants and mosses
filled my vision all around
as earthly fragrance filled the air.
-
Yet thoughts were sharp.
“I’m in my wood
at the place where yellow poppies bloom.
of space and time,
cold fusion in the inner world.”
-
I am reminded
of autumn in the Tatra,
when,
The Narrow Path
through rowans and birches
paused,
and turned
to face deep wooded valleys
and snowy peaks.
-
And on that magic rocky ledge,
We shared our joy,
a butterfly and I.
posted by johnthebarman at 8:27 am
7 Comments:
What a beautiful poem! I'm so glad you found the Tatra mountains inspiring.
Greetings from Poland.
Jolanta Gajda
(a junior high school teacher)
Thanks for your kind comment. Please visit my blog again. Your work with the students is impressive. If you visit the Isle of Barra please say hello. I'm easy to find.
You are very kind.
My students visited your blog and they were impressed both with your poems and photos.
We feel flattered that we have such a nice blog reader from Scotland.
We are looking forward to winter, hoping it will be photogenic.
Lots of greetings.
Ilove it!Paradise in in our heart......and it shine every moment we feel the beauty of this world......
Sara Lecca
Thanks Sara!
A perfect comment. You probably understand 'Shambala' in your Romanian blog. Reading about it years ago I visited Nepal on my search. I came close, but you are right it comes from within when we feel and see the beauty and are One with it.
Very descriptive, if i shut my eyes i can sense the place. Great to see your still composing, fantastic site John, keep up the great work :) x
Wordsworth was there first:
At length I to a sudden turning came
In this continuous glen, where down a rock
The Stream, so ardent in its course before,
Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all
Which I till then had heard, appeared the voice
Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the lamb,
The shepherd's dog, the linnet and the thrush
Vied with this waterfall, and made a song,
Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild growth
Or like some natural produce of the air,
That could not cease to be. Green leaves were here;
But 'twas the foliage of the rocks--the birch,
The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn,
With hanging islands of resplendent furze:
And, on a summit, distant a short space,
By any who should look beyond the dell,
A single mountain-cottage might be seen.
I gazed and gazed, and to myself I said,
"Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook,
My EMMA, I will dedicate to thee."
----Soon did the spot become my other home,
My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode.
And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there,
To whom I sometimes in our idle talk
Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps,
Years after we are gone and in our graves,
When they have cause to speak of this wild place,
May call it by the name of EMMA'S DELL.
Last part of his poem "It was an April morning: fresh and clear"
Who is EMMA ?!
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