She Noticed Such Things
Here's a different kind of Monday Memo. It's a poem I came across some years ago. I tucked it into my file of funeral materials, but I don't think I have used it. It really needs to be read slowly and savored, rather than to be read aloud and heard. It is from Thomas Hardy's poem "Afterwards", a reflection on the importance of noticing the ordinary things and treasuring the simple gifts of life.
When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay,
And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings,
Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbors say,
"He was a man who used to notice such things."?
If, when hearing that I have been stilled at last, they stand at the door,
Watching the full-starred heavens that winter sees,
Will this thought rise on those who will meet my face no more,
"He was one who had an eye for such mysteries."?
And will they say when my bell of quittance is heard in the gloom,
And a crossing breeze cuts a pause in its outrolling,
Till they swell again, as they were a new bell's broom,
"He hears it not now, but used to notice such things".
Taking notice of the mysteries, the simple gifts, the wonders of life. Eunice Pappas "noticed such things". May her tribe increase.
Rest in peace.
|
