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First Snowfall

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
arrives the snow….

from The Snow Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson

“I like the silence of a church, before the service begins better than any preaching.”

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

By Ralph Waldo Emerson:

“To the attentive eye, each moment of the year has its own beauty, and in the same field, it beholds, every hour, a picture which was never seen before and which shall never be seen again.” 

Finding the Beautiful

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful,

we must carry it with us or we find it not.”

– Quotation by Ralph Waldo Emerson

“A man will be eloquent if you give him good wine.”

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

“Wine is the most civilized thing in the world.”

~ Ernest Hemingway

I love this quote by Emerson:

 

“I wish that life should not be cheap, but sacred.

I wish the days to be as centuries, loaded, fragrant.” 

 

Peony

Today, I noticed that the red shoots of the peonies have emerged from their winter sleep.

There’s nothing more fragrant than a peony. 

“Announced by all the trumpets of the sky….
arrives the snow….”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

  From www.bartleby.com

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  

An American Anthology, 1787–1900

 
 The Snow-Storm
 
By Ralph Waldo Emerson
 

 
ANNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.         5
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
 
  Come see the north wind’s masonry.         10
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work         15
So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer’s lane from wall to wall,         20
Maugre the farmer’s sighs; and at the gate
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art         25
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind’s night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.
 

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"Featherheart"
was chosen as
the name for
this blog
because when
I remember
to keep my
heart light as
a feather,
life is much
easier.

ReadWritePoem

Censorship

Jimmy Margulies
The Record
Jan 7, 2011
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