Primulas found this weekend at our local Rhododendron Gardens.
A simple poem today by Mary Oliver, but one to think about.
The Old Poets of China
Wherever I am, the world comes after me.
It offers me its busyness. It does not believe
that I do not want it. Now I understand
why the old poets of China went so far and high
into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.
Have a good week, dear friends!
I am off to give a hug to someone that needs it today.
4 comments:
A beautiful photo and as always, Mary says it with great eloquence. Happy week, Marilyn!
Oh, I can so relate to this poem, Marilyn. After taking a long road trip and seeing many people and doing so much, it was good to be home in the not so crowded mountains with the doves and the quails right in my front yard singing their song. The photo of the Primulas is so pretty. Thank you for this special poem today, Marilyn. Misty and foggy days are so enchanting, aren't they?
~Sheri
Mary's words are always exquisite. Sometimes, withdrawing from the hustle and bustle of the world is so needed. I'm glad you are sensitive to the needs of those around you.
Have you read Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng? This post reminds me of that wonderful book.
I love stories of remote places and really wish I could live in one myself at this stage of life! Right now especially I could "creep into a pale mist" and say heck to all the other stuff causing worry, sadness and grief. I cry for Texas and all those little children and their families - what has the country come to, who really feels safe here anymore!
Sending a hug dear Marilyn.
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