It's Sunday and the Theme is Trumpets

"Now the trumpet summons us again -- not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need; not as a call to battle, though embattled we are -- but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, 'rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation' -- a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself."
John F. Kennedy

The Wild Swans at Coole
by W.B.Yeats

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine and fifty swans.

The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold,
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

art by: angie@northerngirl.net

The Trumpet's Child by Over the Rhine

Comments

  1. Time__
    takes wing
    as a silent swan
    bearing its gift
    on plae moon
    and migratory suns
    to distant waters
    and forgotten days
    of familial love;
    realizing time
    is its own gift.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This was such a thoughtful post, like an exquisite gift box for your readers to open. I loved what was inside...

    ReplyDelete

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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