6 October 2010

He sent me a poem by email this morning...

Wandering Angus

I went out to the hazelwood
Because a fire was in my head
I cut and peeled a hazel wand
And hooked a berry to a thread

And when white moths were on the wing
And moth-like stars were flickering out
I dropped a berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout

When I had laid it on the floor
And went to blow the fire aflame
And something rustled on the floor
And something called me by my name
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossoms in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And vanished in the brightening air

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands
I will find out where she has gone
And kiss her lips and take her hand

And walk through long green dappled grass
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon
And the golden apples of the sun

W.B. Yeats

Reading this, at 9am at work, my body began to shimmer into transparency, tears from my heart seeped out through my eyes...love is eternal, timeless.

My colleagues in the office were mystified.


sarah said...

the many many languages of love. my heart sings for you.

Greenfrog said...

somehow I never encountered that poem before.

Thanks for showing me.