Dying of the light
You shall ask
What good are dead leaves
And I will tell you
They nourish the sore earth.
You shall ask
What reason is there for winter
And I will tell you
To bring about new leaves.
You shall ask
Why are the leaves green
And I will tell you
Because they are rich with life.
You shall ask
Why must summer end
And I will tell you
So that the leaves can die.
from Many Winters by Nancy Wood,
Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers
photo of Autumn Leaves by John Millais,
1855-56, oil on canvas, Manchester City Art Galleries
posted by red-queen at 5:20 AM
7 Comments:
(((N))))
Thank you!
For years, every time I visited London, I would rush to the Tate on the first day and zoom downstairs to the Pre-Raphaelites rooms to see my favourite paintings. It was a kind of ritual.
Lovely poem too. :-)
Beautiful painting, D. I am unfamiliar with both the artist of it, and the author of that poem. Sigh. And yet I can name by sight so many of the various reality tv contestants. I am hopelessly uncultured, so thank you for that bright spark of class today, D. Those are wonderful choices you paired together.
(((katiedid)))
We all have our gifts. Every time i visit your blog, i'm astounded at how little i know about our current culture. And i find your sharp eye and scathing wit the perfect lens through which to view it, too :>)
a beautiful post. xoxo
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beautiful poem.I feel that the leaves r metaphor for life.
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