Wednesday, June 26, 2013

more bokeh


I have been taught never to brag but now
I cannot help it: I keep
a beautiful garden, all abundance,
indiscriminate, pulling itself
from the stubborn earth: does it offend you
to watch me working in it,
touching my hands to the greening tips or
tearing the yellow stalks back, so wild
the living and the dead both
snap off in my hands?

{read the rest of the poem on The Poetry Foundation}

I think my garden is beautiful, but it's also very imperfect. Today I plan on tackling a neglected perennial bed - one of those areas in the yard that have changed to mostly sun to mostly shade.

There are moments at the end of the day when the sun seems to arrive to dance just in my own backyard, and everything is refreshed. Gestures are made, the vine reaches out. I love this vine. Maybe I've said that before. But it's so expressive. There is an elegance about it, that I envy.

The peonies are coming. Though I'm glad they've waited, that they bloom when they're ready. No sooner.

They too are in communication with the light....

The vine and the Tibetan bells and the peonies are merging in interesting ways.

Now the Korean lilacs are finishing up, but still hold out their finished blossoms to the sun.

More light, said Goethe at the end. I would add, more bokeh.

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