Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Red, red rose...

I keep discovering new things in the garden - one of the joys of inheriting an established garden.  This afternoon, I spied a rose bush next to the greenhouse.  There were three gorgeous blooms, I had to grab my camera, climb on the stone bench and get up close and personal with the perfection of this rose.






I don't yet know the name of this beauty (tomorrow I'll go diving into the undergrowth and see if there are any name tags:)  And YES, YES, YES... it smells as good as it looks ~ heaven scent!

I found a poem about roses, by the wonderful Mary Oliver...



Roses, Late Summer
by Mary Oliver

What happens
to the leaves after
they turn red and golden and fall 
away?  What happens

to the singing birds
when they can't sing
any longer?  What happens
to their quick wings?

Do you think there is any
personal heaven
for any of us?
Do you think anyone,

the other side of that darkness,
will call to us, meaning us?
Beyond the trees
the foxes keep teaching their children

to live in the valley.
So they never seem to vanish, they are always there
in the blossom of the light
that stands up every morning

in the dark sky.
And over one more set of hills,
along the sea,
the last roses have opened their factories of sweetness

and are giving it back to the world.
If I had another life
I would want to spend it all on some
unstinting happiness.

I would be a fox, or a tree
full of waving branches.
I wouldn't mind being a rose
in a field full of roses.

Fear has not yet occurred to them, nor ambition.
Reason they have not yet thought of.
Neither do they ask how long they must be roses, and then what.
Or any other foolish question.




I love her line "the last roses have opened their factories of sweetness,"... 

I think she must have (and perhaps still does) meditate on the idea "what if I had
another life?"  Walking in,  and observing the natural world around us, I can't help
but notice how uncomplicated plants and animals lives are when compared to living
a human life..., I too can see the appeal of being a tree, or a rose... I would mostly
like to come back as a bird, like an soaring eagle high, or a wild mustang, 
galloping across the plains.

If you "had another life," what would like to spend it as?


3 comments:

Dianne said...

I so love this blog entry! The image and companion poem exquisite. I'm so curious about the synchronicity of your posting this blog entry with my own posting of "Riotous Roses" via Facebook and the FFOM newsletter. Roses, Roses, Roses. We all benefit!

Cassandra said...

I long to be a beautiful piece of sea glass. A lovely color, bright yet frosted any jagged edges smoothed with each roll against the sands by every wave. Then to lay in the warmth of the sun until the tides come for you again.

Natasha said...

You are so lucky to have found such amazing roses in your garden! I wish I could smell them too.

Best wishes,
Natasha.