beautiful blue Morning Glories - I brought the seeds with me from Texas in April.A poem I never understood:
"O little red rose, Man lies in direst need! Man lies in deepest pain! I would rather be in heaven!"
This is the first half in translation from Des Knaben Wunderhorn.
Just after we had buried my mother, my brother bent over the fresh grave and, with tears in his eyes, selected one little red rose to carry back home in remembrance.
Instantly I understood this poem.
How beautiful is the little rose - yet fragile and soon withered.
How could it be that true love and beauty could go on without decaying? Is truth, love, and beauty so destined?
Fresh figs with Blue Bell vanilla ice cream - I always remember my grandmother in Hearne and the figs from her tree.
Lantana - speckles of orange and yellow - I remember my other grandmother and this flower in her front yard.
The sound of gravel crunching under the tires - and I always got ready for a big long hug from my grandmother as she picked me up and kissed me.
These are all part of the little red rose - reminding us of exclusion and embrace as we look forward to the end of exclusion.
4 Kommentare:
Beautiful. Love the flowers too.
Lovely flowers ... great that they travelled and bloomed so well. My family and I always planted a rose bush or other flowering bush after a loved one died in remembrance of them. They stand for the next generation to remember those who went before. I always stop to think of them as I pass them in the garden.
What a wonderful tradition, Aggie. Photos are irreplaceable, but such living memorials remind us how our loved ones are still with us in daily life.
Morning glories are easy to grow - they need a lot of water.
That was deep. Just what I needed.
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