a dear friend shared another poem that fits right into these landscape thoughts. you can find her thoughts here. and i am just going to blatantly copy the yeats poem she shares:The Cold Heaven
Suddenly I saw the cold and rook-delighting Heaven
That seemed as though ice burned and was but the more ice,
And thereupon imagination and heart were driven
So wild that every casual thought of that and this
Vanished, and left but memories, that should be out of season
With the hot blood of youth, of love crossed long ago;
And I took the blame out of all sense and reason,
Until I cried and trembled and rocked to and fro,
Riddled with light. Ah! When the ghost begins to quicken,
Confusion of the death-bed over, is it sent
Out naked on the roads, as the books say, and stricken
By the injustice of the skies for punishment?
1 comment:
i so desperately want my imagination and heart to be driven so wild.
lovely, lovely - thank you, amy's dear friend, for transplanting this into our view.
(also, such an incredible illustration!)
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