Friday, 3 June 2011

A rainbow in my back garden...

And a poem by Emily Dickinson.

The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
Than Philosophy.

My flowers turn from Forums—
Yet eloquent declare
What Cato couldn't prove me
Except the birds were here!


kairu said...

Beautiful poem, and photo!

I've been reading a lot of poetry lately, mostly William Stafford. He was the favorite of a friend who died back in April, and reading his words has been a way of "diving into the wreck," as Adrienne Rich once put it.

Here is his poem 'Yes':

It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.

It could you know. That's why we wake
and look out--no guarantees
in this life.

But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.

The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems © Graywolf Press, 1998.

jaywalker said...

Thanks, Kairu. How to say so much in a few words, beautifully,

And Justine...Coco keeps on turning up in all sorts of places. I visited some very close friends today and I told them of my excitement about the forthcoming garden literary festival and about you. My friend said, Hang on a minute and disappeared. She came back with a large framed poster of Chanel's designs which she had bought at the Met Art gallery a couple of year ago and had hung in the front hall where, as a good friend, I hardly ever go, always coming and going by the back door and so hadn't seen. Then she also told me that be sheer coincidence, she was reading the old biography of Coco which she'd picked up 2nd hand only the day before!
So, I have told her about yours and she is keen to borrow it while we are away. A small tale of Coco in the Antipodes!

enid said...

A rainbow heralds good things for the back garden party. The photo is beautiful. Kairu I love that poem. Here we have rain and no rainbows.

Justine Picardie said...

Lovely poem from Kairu; thank you so much. I'd never heard of William Stafford until now, but will seek him out. Poems that resonate in grief are (in my experience, at least) better than any other form of writing, when bereavement is at its rawest. When my sister died, for some reason I found I couldn't bear to read novels for a while -- instead, I returned first to the Waste Land, then to the Four Quartets.

Karen, Surrey said...

We could do with your rainbow here this morning. It's dark rainy and miserable; and I have to walk the dog alone as my dog walking companion is not around this morning. Always a chore alone in the rain!

kairu said...

I could do with a rainbow, too! Here the morning is pearly gray and cool; maybe the sun will come out later.

My friend's children (the three of them aged 21-26) put this blog together for her at the beginning of April; she died before the month's end:

All through the winter and spring I watched my friend's eldest daughter work her way through the grief that awaited. They were raised surrounded by poetry, and I think it's helped, as much as anything can help.

Justine Picardie said...

Thank you so much, Kairu. Incredibly moving...

Judi said...

Dear Justine,
I look forward to seeing you Thursday at the RAC.
Your book is so beautiful!

Justine Picardie said...

Thank you -- looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.

Mantiz said...

Beautiful poem and a beautiful shot, I find raonbows to be one of the best things that nature can give us, of course after the Aurora Borealis.

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