Sunday, January 12, 2014

A Gust of Wind - Jean-Baptise Camille Corot (1796-1875)

The Wind
I cannot see the wind at all 
Or hold it in my hand,
And yet I know there is a wind, 
Because it swirls the sand.
I know there is a wondrous wind, 
Because I glimpse its power
Whenever it bends low a tree, 
Or sways the smallest flower.
And God is very much like this, 
Invisible as air,
You cannot touch or see Him, 
And yet you know He’s there,
Because you glimpse His wondrous works 
And goodness everywhere.

~ William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

Wm. Wordsworth (1770-1850)

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4 comments:

  1. Always On WatchJanuary 12, 2014 at 5:35 AM

    If I recall correctly, this is a bit of verse that we were required to memorize back when I was in elementary school.

    Do students memorize poetry these days?

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnonymousJanuary 12, 2014 at 8:46 AM

    Hello, FreeThinke. I've been reading and enjoying your blog, but haven't commented in quite a while. I should at least let you know I haven't deserted you. I'm sorry.

    Over and over again I can only marvel at the skill you show in selecting fonts, color combinations and wonderful illustrations that become an integral part of so many of your posts.I can't understand why no one else ever seems to notice that? You must spend hours trying to find the right imagery. I love that painting by Corot.

    Helen Highwater

    ReplyDelete
  3. FreeThinkeJanuary 12, 2014 at 3:54 PM

    Thank you both. It's too bad most people only want a chance to lament and complain. I thought this was perfect for a Sunday post. How many writers today openly search for God, or even believe He exists?

    Wordsworth was no cynic, neither was he naive, yet I've many a "modern" person with pretensions to knowledge say he's trite -- even corny.

    If they'd ever experienced Intimations of Immortality, they'd never try to make such a claim.

    "If you would enter the Kingdom of Heaven, you must become as a little child."

    All these blasé modern and post-modern affectations of sophistication and world-weariness are even sadder than they are infuriating.

    Was it The Machine Age that lost us the beauty and serenity of the pre-WWI era?

    ReplyDelete
  4. JenJanuary 12, 2014 at 11:59 PM

    I notice, Helen. I just forget to say so. :-)

    Beautiful painting AND poem, FT!

    My latest post is somewhat related...

    ReplyDelete

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