Lovely Passages

"These images were mortal without love,

Pithless, unfocused; would lie down to die:

The bracing rain which drives towards the shore,

The shags' sea-race: then on the yellow cliff

Campion, montbretia, ragwort; tufted crests

Of knapweed, and the corraline

Delicate tamarisk; pagoda-bells,

Warm fuchsia sways for color, all the pomp,

Purple and gold, of August's panoply.

These images were empty less your love.

Love is a lamp within the alabaster,

Irradiation in the bowl of sky

That stirs my life to wonder, blazons earth.

Love is the soundless flight of a white bird

Which else were flesh and feathers and no more."

- 'These Images' by Joseph Braddock

"It is through celebration that we become part of what we perceive: the great arc of birdsong--that runs around the world in the receding darkness and through which we are swept into the light of day-- is as much part of the dawn as the sun's first flash."

-Norman Mommens