Posts Tagged ‘ PLANT ’

TREES – THE SHELTER OF THE INTERTWINED

FOXYBreak open a cherry tree and there are no flowers, but the spring breeze brings forth myriad blossoms. ~Ikkyu Sojun

DONT KNOW

Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow-white blossoms on my head,

With brightest sunshine round me spread

Of spring’s unclouded weather,
In this sequestered nook how sweet
To sit upon my orchard-seat!
And birds and flowers once more to greet,
My last year’s friends together.
– William Wordsworth
GHOST
SACRED TREES
In the early historical period, however, there is considerable evidence that trees held a special significance in the cultures of the ancient world. In Ancient Egypt, several types of trees appear in Egyptian mythology and art, although the hieroglyph written to signify tree appears to represent the sycamore (nehet) in particular. The sycamore carried special mythical significance. According to the Book of Dead, twin sycamores stood at the eastern gate of heaven from which the sun god Re emerged each morning. The sycamore was also regarded as a manifestation of the goddesses Nut, Isis, and especially of Hathor, who was given the epithet Lady of the Sycamore. Sycamores were often planted near tombs, and burial in coffins made of sycamore wood returned the dead person to the womb of the mother tree goddess.
JUDGE
"The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing dear can move me;
I will not, cannot go."
-   Emily Bronte, Spellbound      BAB ON CLOUD

Climbing a propped-up ladder, I’m daunted
by the tree’s springing and spreading. Its top-
most, tapering poles are bare; but the sap
still flows along its horizontal limbs
to feed the scale-like leaves, some red, some green.

– Geoffrey Haresnape, Mulberry in Autumn

 

 

MANTIS

The trees that are slow to grow bear the best fruit.
Moliere

MISC

Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees.
Faith Baldwin



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