622. The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers. ~Matsuo Bashō

If a poem is thin, it is likely so not because
the poet does not know enough words,
but because he or she has not stood long enough
among the flowers-has not seen them in any
fresh, exciting, and valid way.
~Mary Oliver

Screen shot 2015-01-23 at 3.01.14 PM

I am a kind word uttered and repeated
By the voice of Nature;
I am a star fallen from the
Blue tent upon the green carpet.
I am the daughter of the elements
With whom Winter conceived;
To whom Spring gave birth;
I was Reared in the lap of Summer and I
Slept in the bed of Autumn.

At dawn I unite with the breeze
To announce the coming of light;
At eventide I join the birds
In bidding the light farewell.

The plains are decorated with
My beautiful colors, and the air
Is scented with my fragrance.

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of
Night watch over me, and as I
Awaken I stare at the sun,
which is The only eye of the day.

I drink dew for wine, and hearken to
The voices of the birds, and dance
To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.
~Excerpted verses from Song of the Flower

~by Khalil Gibran

By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me—a prayer to the God of my life. ~Psalm 42:8  ✝

23 thoughts on “622. The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers. ~Matsuo Bashō

  1. Oh, the anticipation of what is to come. Winter is endurable when you have faith that spring will follow, just as life is endurable knowing heaven awaits. Thank you Natalie. You are the springtime of life for us all.

    Liked by 1 person

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