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Bleeding cherry |
I feel as follows however;
September has swaggered into the breach, like a veteran officer oblivious to the shells and shrapnel. How does time do that unperturbed, relentless charge towards nothing?
Jacob should have started school on Thursday but he didn't appear. His teacher asked where he was. I had to tell her that he was in his mother's house and well but not at school. He didn't come today, Friday either. I rang again and could hear him playing. She said he was ill in a tone which clearly meant he wasn't and that she didn't care. I have spoken to the social services coordinator in the school so everyone is aware of the situation.
That's enough for now. All is basically well. I feel like a fifteen year old. And probably have even less common sense. Still the school is treating me with a certain warmth.
Poem:
Jacob should have started school on Thursday but he didn't appear. His teacher asked where he was. I had to tell her that he was in his mother's house and well but not at school. He didn't come today, Friday either. I rang again and could hear him playing. She said he was ill in a tone which clearly meant he wasn't and that she didn't care. I have spoken to the social services coordinator in the school so everyone is aware of the situation.
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Grass is looking good though |
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Can't avoid the differences that define you |
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So much beauty concentrated in one small geographical spot |
Poem:
Give All to Love
Give all to love;
Obey thy heart;
Friends, kindred, days,
Estate, good-fame,
Plans, credit and the Muse,—
Nothing refuse.
’T is a brave master;
Let it have scope:
Follow it utterly,
Hope beyond hope:
High and more high
It dives into noon,
With wing unspent,
Untold intent:
But it is a god,
Knows its own path
And the outlets of the sky.
It was never for the mean;
It requireth courage stout.
Souls above doubt,
Valor unbending,
It will reward,—
They shall return
More than they were,
And ever ascending.
Leave all for love;
Yet, hear me, yet,
One word more thy heart behoved,
One pulse more of firm endeavor,—
Keep thee to-day,
To-morrow, forever,
Free as an Arab
Of thy beloved.
Cling with life to the maid;
But when the surprise,
First vague shadow of surmise
Flits across her bosom young,
Of a joy apart from thee,
Free be she, fancy-free;
Nor thou detain her vesture’s hem,
Nor the palest rose she flung
From her summer diadem.
Though thou loved her as thyself,
As a self of purer clay,
Though her parting dims the day,
Stealing grace from all alive;
Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.
The last two lines are beyond beautiful
