I follow a blog called A Poem a Day which gives me great pleasure. Now I share one of Siobahn’s choices which seems most appropriate today as warm summer rain falls all day here.
The Self-playing Instrument of Water – Alice Oswald
It is the story of the falling rain
To turn into a leaf and fall again
It is the secret of a summer shower
To steal the light and hide it in a flower
And every flower a tiny tributary
That from the ground flows green and momentary
Is one of water’s wishes and this tale
Hangs in a seed head smaller than my thumbnail
If only I a passerby could pass
As clear as water through a plume of grass
To find the sunlight hidden at the tip
Turning to seed a kind of lifting raindrip
Then I might know like water how to balance
The weight of hope against the light of patience
Water which is so raw so earthy-strong
And lurks in cast iron tanks and leaks along
Drawn under gravity towards my tongue
To cool and fill the pipe-work of this song
Which is the story of the falling rain
That rises to the light and falls again.
3 We dressed up in proper rain gear this afternoon as we wanted to visit The Dissenters’ Burial Ground in Falmouth which only opens three times a year. It was utterly fascinating and is maintained by two young men, Robert Nunn and Tom Weller, who discovered it, cleared it of its 5′ weeds, researched the history and who now share it with anyone interested. Please visit their website to find out so much more. Click on any photo in the gallery for a caption or more detail. We will have to go back to discover more. It was lovely to meet two people so passionate about their project.