1075. Dancing is silent poetry. ~Simonides

To dance is to reach for a word that doesn’t exist,
To sing the heart-song of a thousand generations,
To feel the meaning of a moment in time.
~Beth Jones

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Where Does the Dance Begin, Where Does It End?
Don’t call this world adorable, or useful, that’s not it.
It’s frisky, and a theater for more than fair winds.
The eyelash of lightning is neither good nor evil.
The struck tree burns like a pillar of gold.
But the blue rain sinks, straight to the white
feet of the trees whose mouths open.
Doesn’t the wind, turning in circles, invent the dance?
Haven’t the flowers moved, slowly, across Asia,
then Europe, until at last, now, they shine in your own yard?
Don’t call this world an explanation, or even an education.
When the Sufi poet whirled, was he looking outward,
to the mountains so solidly there in a white-capped ring,
or was he looking to the center of everything:
the seed, the egg, the idea that was also there,
beautiful as a thumb curved and touching the finger,
tenderly, little love-ring, as he whirled,
oh jug of breath, in the garden of dust?
~Mary Oliver

And David was dancing before the LORD with all his might… ~Excerpt from 2 Samuel 6:14 ✝

**Images via Pinterest; collage created by Natalie

1049. Gardening is the work of a lifetime: You never finish. ~Oscar de la Renta

To own a bit of ground, to scratch it with a hoe,
to plant seeds, and watch the renewal of life.
This is the commonest delight of the race,
the most satisfactory thing a man can do.
~Charles Dudley Wagner

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And I thought I was a giddy squealer yesterday when Oliver’s 4 new poetry books arrived. That is until today, when the 7 new antique roses I ordered were delivered, and then even greater rejoicing erupted. Oh but wait. That would have been more than enough, but it didn’t end there. Next came the new rose catalog with a collection of 4 stunning and deliciously hued roses, roses reminiscent of the admired ones I’d seen in Britain and Europe. Not only were the 4 roses amazing, but the name of the group was The Downton Abbey Collection. So you know what happened next don’t you?! I ordered them of course and then spent the afternoon trying to figure out where I’m going to plant 12 new roses. Twelve? Did I say 12? Yes, I did and I do know that 7 plus 4 equals eleven, but there’s also the other new rose I’d already bought before these purchases. An even dozen really does sound better, don’t you think?! But why so many? Well, last year for whatever reason, maybe from the unusual, huge amounts of rain we got in the spring, or the roots of those existing roses were severed by workers installing the sprinkler system, or they died due to weed killers running downhill off my neighbor’s yard. Whatever the cause,  the result was a great and sad loss of “rosy” life in my realm. So, were these recent expenditures extravagant on my part, possibly! Were they entirely necessary for my being, absolutely! Have I got buyer’s remorse about any of them, oh hell no?!

Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat(enjoy) what they produce. ~Edited excerpt from Jeremiah 29:5 ✝

717. A whisper in the silence; it’s grass having some fun, rustling in the sunshine… ~Excerpt from poem by Olivia Kent

Where is that secret glade?
The one where time seems to fade
In that place of magic pools
Where ladybugs and fairies lounge on the toadstools…
~Adapted excerpt by Will Justus

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Dumpy toadstools grew close by
Our old peach tree: some were high,
Peak’d, like half-shut parasols;|
Others round and low, like balls,
Little hollow balls; and I
Called my father to the tree:
And he said, ‘I tell you what:
Fairies have been here, you see.
This is just the kind of spot
Fairies love to live in. Those
Are their houses, I suppose.
Yes, those surely are their huts!
Built of moon and mist and rain…
~Excerpted lines from a poem
by Madison Julius Cawein

**The “lady” in ladybug refers to the Virgin Mary. Legend has it that crops in Europe during the Middle Ages were plagued by pests, so the farmers began praying to the Blessed Lady, the Virgin Mary. Soon, the farmers started seeing ladybugs in their fields, and the crops were miraculously saved from the pests. They associated their good fortune with the black and red beetles, and so began calling them lady beetles. In Germany, these insects go by the name Marienkafer, which means Mary beetles. The 7-spotted lady beetle is believed to be the first named for the Virgin Mary; the red color represents her cloak, and the black spots represent her sorrows. ~Image via Pinterest; information about the ladybug via the Internet

And Mary said: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of His servant. From now on all generations will call be blessed. ~Luke 1:46-48   ✝