[NicknamedBob]

~~~~quote from Plato, ‘Each of us is but a symbolon of a man…and each is ever searching for the symbolon that will fit him’ (Symposium 191 D-E).~~~~

Offerings

Poets say that we are flowers,
Tossed in seeming disarray,
Peeking out from dirt-filled crannies,
Of gathered stones along the way.

Others claim they see a pattern,
Row on row of ordered ranks.
Either way the gentle flower,
Supplicates the sky with thanks.

Meanwhile in the hidden darkness,
From the shattered dirt we trod,
We build visions of our glory,
Which we offer up to God.

NicknamedBob . . . . March 14, 2009

[yorkie]

O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow
Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth.
- John Davies, 1570-1626, Ode to the West Wind.