“The branches/Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures/Which in our case we have not got”

[larryhammer]

For Poetry Monday:

The Enkindled Spring, D. H. Lawrence

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.

I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze.

And I, what fountain of fire am I among
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng
Of flames, a shadow that’s gone astray, and is lost.


Lawrence (1885-1930) was a Modernist novelist, short-story writer, and poet. He’s not usually to my taste, but this … works.

---L.

Subject quote from Naming of Parts, Henry Reed.

Comments

[shewhomust]

"Which in our case we have not got" has become part of the language of this household.

[larryhammer]

It has been a part of ours since university.

[de_eekhoorn]

That quote goes very well indeed with the Lawrence. Thank you for the poem.

[larryhammer]

I thought it paired.