‘Let my words be bright with animals’ – Susan Richardson

 

‘Let my words be bright with animals’ – Susan Richardson

 

Let my verbs be studded with Glow Worms.

Let Painted Ladies flit from each vowel I sound.

Let my prose be overwritten with Purple Frogs.

Let Baboons moon at my proper nouns.

Let Flamingoes paddle in the shallows of my gossip.

Let Clownfish swim in memories’ depths.

Let Satin Bower Birds use my blue language to decorate their nests.

Let Bonobos get personal with my pronouns.

Let Impalas graze the great plain of my tongue.

Whenever I sing, from the roof of my mouth let Orange Fruit Bats hang.

And at night, as darkness peaks, let a Two-toed Sloth creep upside-down through my mumbling canopy of sleep.

 

Let Wildebeest migrate with my yelling.

Let my softer speech be beached with Natterjack Toads.

Let Pygmy Hippos tinge my whispers.

Let my winter breath make Baiji-wraithes and Dodo-Wraithes

– Susan Richardson

 

Source: ‘Let my words be bright with animals’ – Plumwood Mountain

 

 

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Nature begins to whisper

All of nature begins to whisper its secrets to us through its sounds. Sounds that were previously incomprehensible to our soul now become the meaningful language of nature.

~ Rudolf Steiner

naturescalling

 

The Temple With A Thousand Halls

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“And what yesterday appeared to be a garden or a park or a jungle, today or
tomorrow is recognized as a temple, a temple with a thousand halls and courtyards in which the spirit of all nations and times is present, constantly waiting for reawakening, ever ready to recognize the many-voiced multiplicity of its phenomena as a unity. ”

– Hermann Hesse

 

1889 Man sitting on a bench inside the Hollow Tree in Stanley Park, Vancouver (unknown)

It will have its own – Mary Webb

The British novelist and poet Mary Webb, around 1920. Credit Dorothy Hicklin
The British novelist and poet Mary Webb, around 1920. Credit Dorothy Hicklin

For the love of nature is a passion for those in whom it once lodges. It can never be quenched. It cannot change. It is a furious, burning, physical greed, as well as a state of mystical exaltation. It will have its own.
Mary Webb from The House in Dormer Forest (circa 1921)

 

Webb 6
The young Mary Webb

The Mary Webb Society website 

The Ancient Gods

Certainly there were splashings in the water, Certainly there were shadows on the hill, Dark with the leaves of purple-spotted orchis; But now all’s still.

It may be that the catkin-covered sallow,
With her illusive, glimmering surprise,
Pale golden-tinted as a tall young goddess,
Deceived my eyes;

And the white birches wading in the margin,
Each one a naked and a radiant god,
Dazzled me; and the foam was flung by currents
Where no feet trod.

Only I know I saw them–stately, comely,
Within the leafy shadows of the stream;
They woke amid the shallow, singing water
A fading gleam.

They left no trail for any beast to follow,
No track upon the moss for man to trace;
In a long, silent file up-stream they vanished
With measured pace.

The hollow water curved about their ankles
Like amber; splashes glistened on their thighs;
Sun barred their lifted heads and their far-seeing
Yet sightless eyes.

Some were like women, with deep hair of willows,
Bare breasts and gracious arms and long, smooth hips,
And the red roses of desire half frozen
Upon their lips:

But most were massive-browed and massive-shouldered
And taller than the common height of men.
They went as those that have not home nor kindred,
Nor come again.

Still, where the birches fingered their reflection,
The thrushes chanted to the evening sky;
Still the grey wagtails raced across the shingle
As they went by.

Beyond the furthest of the saffron shallows
I lost them in the larches’ rainy green,
And only saw the stretches of marsh-mallows
Where they had been.

You say the sallow and the birch deceived me:
But I know well that I beheld to-day
The ancient gods, unheralded, majestic,
Upon their way.

Mary Webb © by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

Kiss the joy as it flies

ccSydney Long (1871-1955)

He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sun rise.

– William Blake

image: Sydney Long (1871-1955)

Everything is flowing – like blood in Nature’s warm heart

“Everything is flowing — going somewhere, animals and so-called lifeless rocks as well as water. Thus the snow flows fast or slow in grand beauty-making glaciers and avalanches; the air in majestic floods carrying minerals, plant leaves, seeds, spores, with streams of music and fragrance; water streams carrying rocks… While the stars go streaming through space pulsed on and on forever like blood…in Nature’s warm heart.” – John Muir

Konstantin Bogaevsky

image: Konstantin Bogaevsky

Obstacle or Opportunity

Childhood is that state which ends the moment a puddle is first viewed as an obstacle instead of an opportunity

MICHAEL K WILLIAMS

Shirley Baker1964

Shirley Baker 1964

Rejoice because thorns have roses

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 “We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorns have roses” says Alphonse Karr.

What this is telling us, is that we can choose to see the positive side of something, rather than to focus on the negative.

Perhaps a singing bird will come

green tree1

I thought this Aubrey Beardsley design (which is in the public domain, so can be used for free) was the perfect image to accompany an old Chinese proverb: “Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come.”

To me, this means never give up hope, because good things will come if your heart is open to life, learning, nature and beauty.

This is also another of the little magnets I’ve made on Zazzle

My Zazzle items for Quotes and Inspiration