demark!

Enjoying the moment in Brazza

In Uncategorized on September 24, 2011 at 12:00 pm

Alone in our Eden

Mangoes in my tree outside

Sway ‘gainst midday’s breath

And then go to tumbling down

To the sun-baked deck.

 

Leaves of plants, like outstretched arms,

Grasp for nature’s sweat

Licking the air’s heavy sighs,

Making stem mouths wet.

 

And look! Season’s first new fruit-

Avocado bulbs-

Drooping against their own weight,

Until to man they fall.

 

And all the while hidden yet

‘Neath rock and earth, leaf,

Hidden from our gazing eyes:

Creeping, crawling things.

 

Amidst it all we do sit

To ponder weighty things,

And postulate that we, too,

Are simply nature’s beings.

 

Our block path leads out to their world,

Away from ours here,

Take it I might another day

When beauty’s not so near.

___________

Who said it: Ralph Waldo Emerson (turning 198 1/2 today), enjoying living within his own moments while reminding that the memory gilds all wounds and transgressions.

The quote:

“And the first condition is that we must leave a too close and lingering adherence to facts, and study the sentiments as it appeared in hope, and not in history. For each man sees his own life defaced and disfigured, as the life of man is not to his imagination. Each man sees over his own experience a certain stain of error, whilst that of other men looks fair and ideal. Let any man go back to those delicious relations which make the beauty of his life, which have given him sincerest instruction and nourishment, he will shrink and moan. Alas! I know not why, but infinite compunctions embitter in mature life the remembrances of budding joy, and cover every beloved name. Everything is beautiful seen from the point of the intellect, or as truth. But all is sour if seen as experience. Details are melancholy; the plan is seemly and noble. In the actual world – the painful kingdom of time and place – dwell care and canker and fear. With thought, with the ideal, is immortal hilarity, the rose of joy. Round it all the Muses sing. But grief cleaves to names and persons and the partial interests of today and yesterday.”

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