It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?
Being a bit pushed for time and mind space to write posts it’s so good to have some blog contributions to keep the boat afloat. Well I hope I can be delicate and fragrant, as the Wych Hazel is, under the stress and strain of these in-between times.
between now and
Be patient O ordinary things
be patient with us
as we wriggle and chomp
our ordinary days
Thanks to Diane in Victoria, Canada for the poem and to Mark in the UK for the photograph. He writes thus:
The witch hazel in our front garden blossoms in late January / early February. Although everyone writes it ‘witch’ hazel, it’s actually ‘wych’ (as in ‘wych elm’). ‘Wych’ derives from an ancient word meaning pliant, or pliable, and related to ‘weak’. But these fragile petals are unhurt by frost or snow, and on the coldest days they give out a delicate and lovely fragrance. I expect you could work up a teaching from that!
Hope you’re hale and hearty.
Pliable? “Able to adjust readily to different conditions”