A Short Thought ~ Late Evening Thoughts

Yesterday I found this image of the world according to Ptolemy (born around 85 A.D. and died around 185 A. D.) As I was looking at this image, I got to wondering what kind of a map of my life could be made. Where would things go? Would there be more mountains than valleys? What about rivers, oceans and such. I began to sketch around some ideas...then decided that I would just stick with enjoying this beautiful rendition of what the man knew.
(For a larger view --->click here<---)

And as I often do, I've turned to others to describe their feelings ..

Blessed Earth

Consecrated waters flow
From this blessed earth I know.
We owe so much to this earth,
And its life supply of hearth
Here everything thing can grow.

Consecrated waters flow,
From this blessed earth I know.
I was born here,
And I shall die here.
Precious times, this earth did sow.

Consecrated waters flow,
From this blessed earth I know.
It has seen all my days,
And every one of my childish ways.
Oh beautiful earth I hoe!
---Ashley Donovan

Waves at Hawkwood
(from the book "In Touch with Water")

This grass is like the sea;
I ride over it with big strides
uphill away from the spray of civilisation.
Deep breaths of green
rinse over my head and chest.

At the forest edge the water level rises;
trunks are awash with ivy.
The green sound of crows
flaps up from the valley
like wet raincoats.

Stalks bob buoyant heads
in the wind, and I take
the seed of their image
back with me towards the buildings
where roses cling to liferaft walls.

I walk in the translucent water
of silence.
The wooded hill behind the house
is a tall green wave
towering over the place.
---written by Julia (Jay)
(note that the three lines in italics can also be a haiku)

And last ~

Shall earth no more inspire thee

Shall earth no more inspire thee,
Thou lonely dreamer now?
Since passion may not fire thee,
Shall nature cease to bow?

Thy mind is ever moving,
In regions dark to thee;
Recall its useless roving,
Come back, and dwell with me.

I know my mountain breezes
Enchant and soothe thee still,
I know my sunshine pleases,
Despite thy wayward will.

When day with evening blending,
Sinks from the summer sky,
I've seen thy spirit bending
In fond idolatry.

I've watched thee every hour;
I know my mighty sway:
I know my magic power
To drive thy griefs away.

Few hearts to mortals given,
On earth so wildly pine;
Yet few would ask a heaven
More like this earth than thine.

Then let my winds caress thee
Thy comrade let me be:
Since nought beside can bless thee,
Return--and dwell with me.
--Emily Bronte