Kiwi-family
{Rachael, the Mama of the family}
- Time of past OR future Camino
- walking every day for the rest of my life
At this time there are calls to be positive (valid), calls to be lighthearted (also valid)...and I would like to suggest that for some this is a time to be disappointed. Many of us will have more moments to mull over poetry (amongst other endeavours) in the following months.
I keep a book which I have called Lament and I collect things in there that aid in the season of disappointment.
One poem is Thomas Hood's "The Song of the Shirt"
One verse in particular reminds me how fortunate I have been to be able to walk many times in Spain, around the globe, and indeed every day at home. I have never had to choose between feeding my children and taking an hour of recreation.
O! but to breathe the breath
Of the cowslip and primrose sweet—
With the sky above my head,
And the grass beneath my feet;
For only one short hour
To feel as I used to feel,
Before I knew the woes of want
And the walk that costs a meal!
But the poem I particularly want to share today is Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's one which acknowledges sadness but ends with hope. It is good to remember disappointment neither defines us, nor lasts forever.
The Rainy Day
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
I keep a book which I have called Lament and I collect things in there that aid in the season of disappointment.
One poem is Thomas Hood's "The Song of the Shirt"
One verse in particular reminds me how fortunate I have been to be able to walk many times in Spain, around the globe, and indeed every day at home. I have never had to choose between feeding my children and taking an hour of recreation.
O! but to breathe the breath
Of the cowslip and primrose sweet—
With the sky above my head,
And the grass beneath my feet;
For only one short hour
To feel as I used to feel,
Before I knew the woes of want
And the walk that costs a meal!
But the poem I particularly want to share today is Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's one which acknowledges sadness but ends with hope. It is good to remember disappointment neither defines us, nor lasts forever.
The Rainy Day
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
