Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth.
~Hugh Macmillan, “Rejuvenescence,” The Ministry of Nature, 1871
“In the sheltered heart of the clumps
last year’s foliage still clings to the lower branches,
tatters of orange that mutter with the passage of the wind,
the talk of old women warning the green generation of what they, too,
must come to when the sap runs back.”
– Jacquetta Hawkes
“Lonely Harvest” from Family Constellation by Margaret S. Mullins
“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
~ from ‘Stray Birds’ by Rabindranoth Tagore
Mt. Olivet
They sing of the church in the valley.
But my heart receives a great thrill
When I think of the home of my childhood
And the little white church on the hill.
It stands as a symbol of Gods love
And mother and father love too
For they went with us each Sunday morning
To show us the pathway so true.
God’s acre is near and our dear ones
Lie under its green grassy sod
Their lives have been our inspiration
We know they’ve gone home to God.
I’ve seen very beautiful churches
Some that I’ll never forget.
But none so dear as the church on the hill
The one that we call Olivet.
~ Great-Aunt Ida Dixon Price
