…now the cordial clouds have shut all in, And gently swells the wind to say all’s well; The scattered drops are falling fast and thin, Some in the pool, some in the flower-bell.
Drip drip the trees for all the country round, And richness rare distills from every bough; The wind alone it is makes every sound, Shaking down crystals on the leaves below. ~Henry David Thoreau from “The Summer Rain”
Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart; The end lost in dream, They float past our view, We only watch their glad, early start.
Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose; Their widening scope, Their distant employ, We never shall know. And the stream as it flows Sweeps them away, Each one is gone Ever beyond into infinite ways. We alone stay While years hurry on, The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays. ~Amy Lowell “Petals”
I became aware of the world’s tenderness,
the profound beneficence of all that surrounded me,
the blissful bond between me and all of creation,
and I realized that the joy I sought …
breathed around me everywhere…
in the metallic yet tender drone of the wind,
in the autumn clouds bloated with rain.
I realized that the world does not represent a struggle at all…
a predaceous sequence of chance events,
but shimmering bliss,
a gift bestowed on us and unappreciated. ~Vladimir Nabokov from his story “Beneficence”