The Power To Break Rocks

pansy3

 

pavementpansies

 

“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.”
~Tennessee Williams in “Camino Real”
(These words became his epitaph)

 

pansy2

 

Some beginnings in this life commence on inhospitable ground:
no soil, no protection, no nurture, barely enough water.

Here lies a drive to thrive and transcend: forcing through a crack in the pavement while exposed to relentless heat.

Such delicate beauty comes from nothing but a seed packed with the potential to transform its circumstances through perseverance.  We all are created with the potential power to break through rocks and change the world.

Forever and ever.

Amen.

 

pansy1

 

wwupansyface

 

 

This Treacherous Month

bleedingleaf

violetoctober

This is the treacherous month when autumn days
With summer’s voice come bearing summer’s gifts.
Beguiled, the pale down-trodden aster lifts
Her head and blooms again. The soft, warm haze
Makes moist once more the sere and dusty ways,
And, creeping through where dead leaves lie in drifts,
The violet returns. Snow noiseless sifts
Ere night, an icy shroud, which morning’s rays
Will idly shine upon and slowly melt,
Too late to bid the violet live again.
The treachery, at last, too late, is plain;
Bare are the places where the sweet flowers dwelt.
What joy sufficient hath November felt?
What profit from the violet’s day of pain?
~Helen Hunt Jackson “November”

pansy3

firstfrost4

sunset111142

The Stream of Life

violetoctober

pansy3

pansy1

Oh Stream of Life! the violet springs
But once beside thy bed;
But one brief summer, on thy path,
The dews of heaven are shed.
Thy parent fountains shrink away,
And close their crystal veins,
And where thy glittering current flowed
The dust alone remains.
~from William Cullen Bryant’s last poem “The Stream of Life”

 

A seed may land in lush green
or a narrow crack of the pavement.
Only a dewy touch from above
will yield blooms from dry rock.
May my dusty soul be bathed
and blossom.

1031drops6

pavementpansies