I love flowers. Don’t ask me why, but I do! Since I’m at a loss of words, I thought it best to borrow them from William Blake & Alexander Pushkin. These pictures were taken soon after a long and arduous argument with the one who brought them home. The accompanying verse seems to express the context of what that moment and these flowers meant to me. Hope you like them even if a tad flowery 🙂
Ah! Sun-Flower by William Blake
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time.
Who countest the steps of the Sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire.
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
The sleeping sepals: ‘I slept in the earth In the silent night, I murmured my fears and I felt delight.
The Filament and the Stigma: As I wandered the forest, the green leaves among, I heard a Wild Flower singing a song.
A bud dreams: ‘In the morning I went as rosy as morn, to seek for new joy; But oh! met with scorn.
Glowing petals: A flower, shrivelled, bare of fragrance, forgotten on a page – I see, and instantly my soul awakens, filled with an aimless reverie
The stigma: When did it bloom? the last spring? earlier? How long? Where was it plucked? By whom? By foreign hands? or by familiar? And why put here, as in a tomb?
Wilting: Is she alive? Is he still with her? Where is their haven at this hour? Or did they both already wither, like this unfathomable flower?