Thursday, April 26, 2007

The Grass is Growing

26 April 2007, 11:39 AM
The Haven

The grass is growing.
In the midst of hell unfolding,
there is a Haven- a peaceful
place which fosters life, no matter
how small and delicate. There is one thing
all these little deaths cannot change-
that life will always encroach
on the mouldering heaps of decay,
making of despair a sustenance
which cannot be taken away.


Ruth said...

Reminds me of that Carl Sandburg poem.

Maria said...

I read it. There was an echo in "The Grass is Growing" of William Cullen Bryant's "Forest Hymn." At one point, he talks about life pressing in on the "faltering footsteps of decay." It's a wonderful piece.

A short excerpt:

"How on the faltering footsteps of decay
Youth presses----ever gay and beautiful youth
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees
Wave not less proudly that their ancestors
Moulder beneath them. Oh, there is not lost
One of earth's charms: upon her bosom yet,
After the flight of untold centuries,
The freshness of her far beginning lies
And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate
Of his arch enemy Death---yea, seats himself
Upon the tyrant's throne---the sepulchre,
And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe
Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth
From thine own bosom, and shall have no end."

Ruth said...

The conversation of poetry. :-)

George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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