The sunshine and rain of spring has brought colour and energy to the earth. The joy of awakening is here even as the soft and fresh green of beginnings is transitioning into a deeper shade of maturity. It is a reminder that the warmth of summer is near. Tonight, I am bidding a fond farewell to winter, for a time, with the poem, ”Here in the Time of the Winter Morn” by William Moore.
Here in the Time of the Winter Morn
By William Moore
Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love, I see the Sunlit leaves of changing hue Burn clear against a sky of tender blue, Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love. Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love, I hear the low tone bells of changing song Ring clear upon the air the full day long, Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love. I hear the bells, I see the changing leaves, And one lone heart for Summer silent grieves, Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love.
O! my heart now feels so cheerful as I go with footsteps light In the daily toil of my dear home; And I’ll tell to you the secret that now makes my life so bright— There’s a flower at my window in full bloom.
It is radiant in the sunshine, and so cheerful after rain; And it wafts upon the air its sweet perfume. It is very, very lovely! May its beauties never wane— This dear flower at my window in full bloom.
Nature has so clothed it in such glorious array, And it does so cheer our home, and hearts illume; Its dear mem’ry I will cherish though the flower fade away— This dear flower at my window in full bloom.
Oft I gaze upon this flower with its blossoms pure and white. And I think as I behold its gay costume, While through life we all are passing may our lives be always bright Like this flower at my window in full bloom.
Spring, with its renewed energy after a Winter’s rest, awakens our hearts to the words of poetic inspiration.
April invites us to celebrate its arrival with a reading of poetry.
Poetry is one of the oldest creative endeavors – an art form that has the benefit of diversity. Haiku, sonnet, spoken word, epic, limerick, ode and so much more. Each generation adds to the collection that has come through the centuries.
With poetry, we explore our innermost thoughts, feelings and impulses. We experience the world around us through vivid descriptions and the sound of words reverberating within our souls.
Join me as I recite the poem “In April” by Rainer Maria Rilke
Rainer Maria Rilke – 1875-1926
Again the woods are odorous, the lark Lifts on upsoaring wings the heaven gray That hung above the tree-tops, veiled and dark, Where branches bare disclosed the empty day.
After long rainy afternoons an hour Comes with its shafts of golden light and flings Them at the windows in a radiant shower, And rain drops beat the panes like timorous wings.
Then all is still. The stones are crooned to sleep By the soft sound of rain that slowly dies; And cradled in the branches, hidden deep In each bright bud, a slumbering silence lies.
Amidst Shetland Island’s wild and beautiful scenery, with its deeply indented coasts and enclosed steep hills, stands a solitary forest. Kergord Woods, located in Weisdale, is the only substantial woodland in the Shetland Islands. Planted between 1909 – 1921, the trees thrive, despite harsh winter weather, and invite woodland birds to make their home among their branches.