“You’d be so lean, that blast of January
Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair’st friend,
I would I had some flowers o’ the spring that might
Become your time of day.”
– William Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale, Act IV Scene 4
Flowers
“Perhaps not to be is to be without your being,
without your going, that cuts noon light
like a blue flower, without your passing
later through fog and stones,
without the torch you lift in your hand
that others may not see as golden,
that perhaps no one believed blossomed
the glowing origin of the rose,
without, in the end, your being, your coming
suddenly, inspiringly, to know my life,
blaze of the rose-tree, wheat of the breeze:
and it follows that I am, because you are:
it follows from ‘you are’, that I am, and we:
and, because of love, you will, I will,
We will, come to be.”
― Pablo Neruda
“But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.”
” Ma l’amicizia è il respiro rosa, con i dolci in ogni piega. ”
— Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
And now from yonder hill the sun’s bright beams
Shine through the mist, and flood the world with light;
The path winds on, leaving our broken dreams
Of tangled briar and brake far out of sight.
The dawn of hope has come our heart to cheer;
The path before us shines in the sun’s ray.
We follow on, into the coming year,
And in hope’s sunshine greet each op’ning day.
Lilian Pearce
You Are Tired (I Think)
By E.E. Cummings
You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)
You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.
“We must always change, renew, rejuvenate ourselves; otherwise we harden”
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“When I say it’s you I like, I’m talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.”
The flowers that sleep by night, opened their gentle eyes and turned them to the day.
The light, creation’s mind, was everywhere, and all things owned its power.
Charles Dickens, The Old Curiosity Shop
Every winter, When the great sun has turned his face away, The earth goes down into a vale of grief, And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables, Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay — Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses. — Charles Kingsley, Saint’s Tragedy
“One loses time seeking for words;
one kiss brings understanding.”
“Perdi tempoando le parole,
bacia e sarai capito cerc.”
Perugina Baci
Maverick Mist 