Monday, December 26, 2011

Starting out or doing what one does, only differently ?

Why the blog ? I have no good answer to that - perhaps an antidote to rage and disappointment.  I have no clue  how to do this, so it could be interesting.    It begins.....

I went into the hazel wood
because a fire was in my head
and cut and peeled a hazel wand
and hooked a berry to a thread

and when white moths were on the wing
and moth-like stars were flick'ring out
I dropped the berry in a stream
and caught a little silver trout

I found this little bit of anonymous poetry many years ago when reading a book by Mary Orvis.  It serves me well when things go nuts.  Currently I recite it daily. 

1 comment:

  1. Knew I recognized that bit of poetry. I just read it a couple weeks ago. Here it is, in full:


    by: W.B. Yeats

    WENT out to the hazel wood,
    Because a fire was in my head,
    And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
    And hooked a berry to a thread;

    And when white moths were on the wing,
    And moth-like stars were flickering out,
    I dropped the berry in a stream
    And caught a little silver trout.

    When I had laid it on the floor
    I went to blow the fire a-flame,
    But something rustled on the floor,
    And some one called me by my name:
    It had become a glimmering girl
    With apple blossom in her hair
    Who called me by my name and ran
    And faded through the brightening air.

    Though I am old with wandering
    Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
    I will find out where she has gone,
    And kiss her lips and take her hands;
    And walk among long dappled grass,
    And pluck till time and times are done
    The silver apples of the moon,
    The golden apples of the sun.