On a walk through a wet and sunny garden I remember the poem that made Dylan Thomas famous.
The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.
More than half a year at home; thrown back by two generations, into a time when infectious diseases could kill you. Almost a year since I traveled out of India. But the seasons change as usual. Varsha has given way to sharad, exactly as the calendar dictates it will. The motion of our world around the sun drives the seasons. The nuclear fusion that powers the world’s most destructive bombs powers life. Walking under trees you see death and life.
I turned the leaf over, and under it a caterpillar had drawn a cocoon around itself. A butterfly will emerge in days.
Change is the only thing that just has to happen….
Talking about caterpillars, they are driving me nuts in our Shillong home. At the same time, gorgeous butterflies keep visiting the garden, some of them as big as the size of my palm.
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The same thing really. Like annoying babies and wonderful adults 🙂
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The caterpillar and cocoon are hopefully signs that good times will be back sometime in future … 🙂
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If you believe that the external world is full of signs and portents, then yes.
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Perhaps not signs as much as reminders.
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🙂
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