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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>0009 Persian vase, Persian thoughts</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As you enter this quiet and peaceful sunlit room, <br>it seems at first all space; but then your eye<br>- as is intended – straightway drawn<br>to that fine Persian vase which sits <br>upon an old oak chest, its lid, polished<br>with the wax of love and years, <br>a crack across it somehow speaking <br>of trials borne and overcome; <br>the tale of life, of time, of history, of lessons learnt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The chest – it’s cedar lined, as aromatic as memory<br>when the lid is opened – does not now hold, <br>as when it was first carpentered, a bridal trousseau; <br>a girl given with fine clothes to destiny -<br>now, precious family documents<br>that tell of rights and duties, high positions<br>and their responsibilities, once held; <br>past, present and future, public life and private, <br>aromatic in the memory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The vase is cool and vivid, curls of blue and white; <br>a cobalt blue, the colour of far-seeing beauty –<br>the surface colour seen in deepest sea; <br>the colour which the upper air, in flight, <br>seems to yearn for; as if we look<br>into the vase and through it and beyond it; <br>the white’s so white, it speaks of purity; <br>and here are touches of an emerald green<br>which sets off both, as if jewelled thoughts<br>are never far away from golden minds</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the potter, speak that vase: <br>I am the eye that draws your eye, <br>I am the beauty that may touch your heart; <br>and to your mind, I bring the thought –<br>I too was born of dust, of clay and precious water, <br>decorated with a potter’s love; <br>one day I shall, by that accident which reigns<br>in life that passes, be broken into pieces<br>and return to dust…<br>you and I, our past is dust, our future dust –<br>but oh, the beauty of the present that’s eternal, <br>the joyous dancing of the here and now…<br>cobalt blue like sea and sky, innocent as white, <br>emerald as green fields fresh diamonded with dew..</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460399" data-title="0009 Persian vase, Persian thoughts de Michael Shepherd" data-description="As you enter this quiet and peaceful sunlit room, 
it seems at first all space; but then your eye
- as is intended – straightway drawn
to that fine Persian vase which sits 
upon an old oak chest, its lid, polished
with the wax of love and years,..."></div>
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