But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sunrise
-William Blake
In a week that has no doubt been filled with many worries and cares for each of us, I offer to you a poem about leisure. These days, I don't much like rhyming poems. But this one caught my fancy as I hope it will yours. Nothing deep, just a simple poem by British poet W.H. Davies. A poem that invites us to self-care.
What is this life if, full of care,
We have not time to stand and stare...
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hid their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have not time to stand and stare.
W.H. Davies (left, 1871-1940)
