The poem I am sharing with you today was written by a dear friend and the poet whose application of sensitivity and genius craft I admire most; PEI author John MacKenzie.
While perusing some of his exquisitely composed poetry on his extensive blog Mumbling Jack I came upon this piece of tender perfection. I recall being so moved by the beauty of this poem at the time it was written six years ago.
Many thanks to John for his kind permission to share this from his blog.
The Gentle Crocus Hones Green Blades of Rain
The gentle crocus hones green blades of rain And whittles gaps in notes the small birds sing; Out of silence we build our last refrain.
Melodies of youth are remembered strains When the winter snows melt and flow in spring. The gentle crocus hones green blades of rain.
The geese return, dark and raveling skeins Falling down from skies string by tangled string. Out of silence we build our last refrain.
A fiddle’s lament stills the nights again As wasp and nettle barb and hook their stings. The gentle crocus hones green blades of rain.
The days are gone when our bright bodies came Together as a warm-toned bell ringing Out of silence. We build our last refrain.
Some would tell you rage while the last light drains From day. But night’s a black and perfect wing. The gentle crocus hones* green blades of rain. Out of silence we build our last refrain.
*It was very hard to resist using whets in place of hones all through this one.
If you think your heart is up for it, click the link above to John's blog to read the poem again while playing the video he has posted of what happens to be my very favourite fiddle song; Neil Gow's Lament for the Death of his Second Wife.
And because beauty tinged with sadness is all around us, it's okay to feel so deeply you must cry.
Time to pour another cup of tea.
This life, this beautiful life...
Be well
Love from Jill
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