Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Seeds of Promise

Nestled under its snow-downy comforter, the winter garden rests peacefully after its summer toil.

Yet here and there, sleepy seedheads have escaped the covers, assuring the watchful gardener that they, too, are dreaming of spring days to come.

They lie still and silent, yet their promise resounds:
Soon they will forsake their frosty nightcaps and once again stretch their yearning arms to the warmth of the sun.

From “Ode to the West Wind”
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

“O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,

“Each like a corpse within its grave, until…

“Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow
Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth,

“…and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odors plain and hill…

“Be through my lips to unawakened earth
The trumpet of a prophecy!

“O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?"


Thanks for stopping by the Suburban Sanctum! I hope you've enjoyed your visit and will come again soon. I'd love to hear any comments you have before you go, and promise to respond as soon as I can. Thanks!