Considering lilies

As I transfer this image from the camera onto iPhoto, from iPhoto to the desktop, from the desktop to this blog, I wonder what I might have to say that could possibly gild the lily.

It puts me in mind of the effort I’ve expended this year on the enterprise called Rosa Mira Books. And I’m made awe-fully aware that what I’ve produced, while it looks pretty good in certain lights, is yet ‘seared with trade; Bleared, smeared with toil; And wears (my) smudge and shares (my) smell’.

But the lily, its flowers rain-flecked and ogling me through the window as I write, pressed up out of an unprepossessing potful of soil, with somehow in its bland stalk these blooms encoded, which, within a few days, broke open, displaying all their ‘dearest freshness deep down things’. There ain’t a darn thing wrong with them.


4 responses to “Considering lilies”

  1. Thank you Marylinn. Yes, beloved, best -used objects are smeared, dog-eared and tatty. Today I’m loving my compost heap. I’m well smudged and words can’t begin to describe the new soil.

  2. Surely all our efforts, especially the more heart-driven ones, are smeared, smudged and, likely, tattered. Or we are as a result. An undertaking such as Rosa Mira Books requires no gilding either. Touting, promoting, proclaiming are noises that bombard us. Allowing, ushering, assisting provide calm introduction to our endeavors. They speak for themselves and shine with their own light. Yes, congratulations.

  3. Thanks you Melissa. I’ve rather smudged the poem as well with my (mis)quoting, but I come back and back to Hopkins. I wish you could smell these lilies, too. Delicately lilicious.

  4. dear Penelope, Sigh. Gorgeous lilies, a woman who quotes one of my favorite Hopkins poems, and who grew from the idea of soil a wonderful, strong, exciting and satisfying enterprise, thumbprints and duct tape and all. There is a great deal to say ‘Hallelujah’ about! Congratulations. xo