Showing posts with label paradise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paradise. Show all posts

Sunday, 21 April 2019

Double Sonnet

Julia Manning

from Double Sonnet


10.

Tread softly! all the earth is holy ground.
It may be, could we look with seeing eyes,
This spot we stand on is a Paradise
Where dead have come to life and lost been found,
Where Faith has triumphed, Martyrdom been crowned,
Where fools have foiled the wisdom of the wise;
From this same spot the dust of saints may rise,
And the King’s prisoners come to light unbound.
O earth, earth, earth, hear thou thy Maker’s Word:
“Thy dead thou shalt give up, nor hide thy slain”—
Some who went weeping forth shall come again
Rejoicing from the east or from the west,
As doves fly to their windows, love’s own bird
Contented and desirous to the nest.

Christina Rossetti


This is sonnet #10 of 28 from "Later Life: A Double Sonnet of Sonnets". This one seems particularly suited to Easter. The idea of the entire earth as a resurrection scene intrigues me. "Where dead have come to life and lost been found." How true, how strange and true. I mean, for one thing, it's Spring, and the dead, brown soil is coming to life again, the bare tree branches are bursting into leaf. And yes, this is the place where generations of wild creatures have been born, where we ourselves grew, and those after us - we are witness to these cycles. I love that "O earth, earth, earth, hear thou thy Maker's Word." it's almost a direct quote from Jeremiah 22:29, a most beautiful call of hope, a reassurance of future resurrection. The Creator's Son has died and risen so that all creation will rise, new, rejoicing. The earth, a Paradise once more. This is the promise of Christianity, and whether one believes it or not, it is compelling. 

 

Saturday, 12 May 2018

in time of daffodils

Vincent van Gogh



in time of daffodils

in time of daffodils (who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why, remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so (forgetting seem)

in time of roses (who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if, remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek (forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me, remember me

e.e. cummings

So flowers "know/proclaim/amaze" in their time, in their cycle and season. They do all these things, according to cummings, to show us that living isn't about coming to the surface or finding the sharp edges, but going down deeper and finding a redemptive and incomprehensible fullness of being that, if we free ourselves into the mystery of - we will know to be both a kind of self-remembering and forgetting - in which the edges between ourselves and other beings fade. The time of daffodils, lilacs, and roses becomes our time as we begin (again) to know the goal of living, "Forgetting if, remembering yes." Or, at least, that's how I read it...