The books open on my writing table lead me into quiet inner gardens beyond the keyhole through which we all enviously peer, wanting to be allowed past the wall, through the gate with its rusted latch, hard to open, resisting even the most urgent push.
I need to sit, settle, feel the orderly words around me like familiar blooming plants and chuckling birds, soothing and sooth-saying.
Connection with gardens, even small ones, even potted plants, can become windows to the inner life. The simple act of stopping and looking at the beauty around us can be prayer.
—Patricia R. Barrett, The Sacred Garden, 2001
image: Christie B. Cochrell, On My Desk
What you wrote about looking through the keyhole and imagining lies beyond the gate and the fence reminded me of a poem by a very famous and old (old I mean 18th century old) Italian poet called Giacomo Leopardi. He wrote a poem titled "L'Infinito" - "The Infinite". The poem majestically describes how, when the vision is hindered by the presence of a hedge, the imagination works at trying to see what lies beyond it; the author imagines it to be the infinite.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your picture.
Your room looks very sunny and bright. I love bright rooms. Can't stay in dark rooms.
Thanks for this evocative poem, Jay. I love the line from one of its translations, “and eternity occurs to me.” (Sounds like a Rilke line, too!)
DeleteMy room is lightest and most luring in late afternoon, when I most often can't be there.
Wishing you bright rooms and an inspiring weekend!