Monday, December 05, 2005

When I Was Small

Yesterday, I told you about my childhood friends, Nelson and Doris, and I linked you to a photo and poem that Doris was honoured to have published online. Of course, I became greedy and requested that she send me a photo-poem to specifically publish on my blog. She complied promptly by sending me "When I Was Small", and the photo of a small damsel fly.


In her own words: Not having moved away from the area I grew up in, I have the opportunity to practically retrace my childhood wanderings. Although much has changed and once untouched fields are now parking lots and shopping malls, I still can find grassy areas where I walked as a child. One time while walking, I came to wonder whether the thoughts I have now (forty some odd years later) are any wiser than those I had as a child. It is with that in mind that I wrote the poem.


Thank you Doris.


 


damsel flies

WHEN I WAS SMALL


 


When I was small and just a child


I wandered 'long these grassy trails -


Observed the milkweed and mullein


And saw life's tiniest details.


 


It seemed that then the plants and I


Were almost equal in our size -


And this afforded me a view


Of monarch eggs and damsel flies.


 


And now so many years have passed


Since once I wandered through this grass.


 


My height is more a hindrance now


And eyes - less keen - preclude the sight


Of all the tiny precious life


That once provided great delight.


 


When eyes and mind are of a child,


They are more kindly blessed


Than present eyes - set high but dulled -


And mind worn down by stress.


 


Have years made wise the thoughts that pass


As now I wander through this grass?


 


Can not as deep a truth be known


From contemplation of a stone


At a mountain's base


 


Than from ascending t'wards the sky


To such exalted view on high


Of grandeur and of space?


 

8 comments:

Meadow said...

Wow. That picture is AMAZING! And the poem is lovely.

Valerie - Still Riding Forward said...

Beauty!

Anonymous said...

Both the poem and the photo are lovely. Doris is a very talented and insightful person.

mreddie said...

Great post and poem. We would probably all be better off and our blood pressure much lower if we would slow down and pay attention to our Maker's creations - even the smallest ones. ec

Bonita said...

I never tire of poetry and images, and these were wonderful. A question - aren't there 2 lovely damsels in the photo?

gemmak said...

WOW! Stunning photograph :o)

Paul said...

I enjoyed reading the poem but especially the ending. It rose to perfect peak. Wonderful!

Dale said...

My dad is 84. Dad and I stood together in the woods last summer. I looked up at the leafy limbs, so green against the cloudless sky.
"You know, Dad," I began, "the older I get, the more I like trees. How 'bout you?"
He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me to him.
"I even like looking at weeds," he grinned.

Perhaps as we get older, AC, we can appreciate again the little details that thrilled us in our youth. Great poem!