A Poem: Love


(system) #1

Love

We meet again. The moment, Kind and generous, The beauty, Peaceful and serene.

The spirit alive In all that is And not what could be.

And all of this Born of love, In a moment That is timeless And always Enough.

Chris Roe was born in the rural county of Norfolk, England, where he has lived and worked for much of his life. His love of nature and his experience working in agriculture is reflected in much of his writing.


This is a companion discussion topic for the original entry at http://spectrummagazine.org/node/6264

(jeremy) #2

this is such a wonderful poem…it’s exactly how i feel as i drift off to sleep after a particularly meaningful prayer session at the end of the day…


(Carol June Hooker) #3

What fitting irony, to illustrate this poem with a dandelion, backlit against a crepuscular sky.


(Rohan Charlton) #4

Blessed by this. Thank you!


(Steve Mga) #5

“Meeting again for the first time” is an apt statement. It is especially so as we meet, leave, meet, leave, meet. Each experience is like a photo in time to be posted, to be recalled. Much like the beauty of the humble dandy-lion which is usually ignored in our existence. We see the leaves that are so hardy in all kinds of weather. The green bud with a hint of color shyly poking its head out. Then it soon shouts Here I am! with its mature stem and bright sunshine yellow beckoning all to feed on its blossom. But it holds a sadness within in its heart. Beneath its brightness, beneath its dark green is “bitterness” that has been its experience. Its greens are there for us to eat, but our presence with it, as we add flavor to it makes the “bitter herb” a tasteful experience for both. Even in old age the dandy-lion is beautiful with its frilly silliness. It calls us to play with it one more time. This time to share the fun we have had with it to the whole world. We blow our happy, good-bye spirit-breath upon it. We wish it God-speed as we see it float away in some respects, gone forever, but still there at the same time to “meet again” next year.


(Bronwyn Reid ) #6

In my childhood, my mother would pick me a dandelion flower and we would blow the seeds and make a wish. This week was the seven year anniversary of her passing. I have often longed for her to be with me again to share the birth of a new baby in our family and to celebrate with her the accomplishments of my children and her grandchildren. This poem has reminded me that all I have is the present moment and to remember to appreciate the blessings of life and enjoy the time that I have been given, however long or short that may be.