Poetry

Before I begin work today I thought Id share a lovely piece of poetry with all of you:This is from  May Sartons lovely poem, from The Lion and the Rose (1938-1948), and it seemed right to post the poem in its entirety:The Work of HappinessI thought of happiness, how it is wovenOut of the silence in the empty house each dayAnd how it is not sudden and it is not givenBut is creation itself like the growth of a tree.No one has seen it happen, but inside the barkAnother circle is growing in the expanding ring.No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark,But the tree is lifted by this inward workAnd its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.So happiness is woven out of the peace of hoursAnd strikes its roots deep in the house alone:The old chest in the corner, cool waxed floors,White curtains softly and continually blownAs the free air moves quietly about the room;A shelf of books, a table, and the white-washed wall--These are the dear familiar gods of home,And here the work of faith can best be done,The growing tree is green and musical.For what is happiness but growth in peace,The timeless sense of time when furniturehas stood a lifes span in a single place,And as the air moves, so the old dreams stirThe shining leaves of present happiness?No one has heard thought or listened to a mind,But where people have lived in inwardnessThe air is charged with blessing and does bless;Windows look out on mountains and the walls are kind.I feel that my life, despite of the long years of unemployment, is moving into a phase like this. I have my wonderful family and friends and my wood working activities and blogging to thank for this. Thank you all.VW

Related Posts by Categories