<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=461040" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Primavera</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some years, Spring steals in slow and steady, <br>evoking a daily increment of warmed gratitude.<br>Not this year: first it came too early, <br>then thought better of it: a nip of proper winter first<br>would strengthen human gratitude, thought Spring…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now it’s trying again, reminded perhaps<br>that all this Easter stuff is due; and markets must recover…<br>the sunlight curves into that yard or too<br>of sheltered space in the garden where<br>I dare to sit, five minutes of passing sunlight one day, <br>ten the next, and so on.. will the warmth now<br>reach my medicated heart? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Botticelli – Marsilio Ficino breathing<br>over his shoulder, some suspect –<br>tried to cram all this into a 2-D version<br>of a moving 3-D world: the spinning top <br>of divine love, passing through<br>three worlds, the physical, mental, spiritual, <br>on the first day of eternal Spring itself.<br>A mighty work of failed success, successful failure, <br>God’s work depicted in a lick or two of fresh paint..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I, sitting in the sun my fifteen minutes, <br>am Primavera too: sun on chest and legs, <br>upbeat thoughts in mind; and in that world of spirit, <br>the springing stirring of some memory<br>of that world sometimes inhabited, <br>where childlike wonder was the daily norm; <br>and later, that enthusiasm, stirring of the gods within, <br>that takes teenagers towards some ultimate career; <br>then, adult stirrings of the wiser heart: <br>praise; gratitude; and laughter; care, concern; <br>all ancient virtues loved for their own sake; <br>and shining there beyond, a glory and a splendour, <br>a light beyond belief…<br>these, to the wintered heart<br>bring again, the stronger for that testing time, <br>the first green showers of the loving spring of truth.</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=461040" data-title="Primavera de Michael Shepherd" data-description="Some years, Spring steals in slow and steady, evoking a daily increment of warmed gratitude. Not this year: first it came too early, then thought better of it: a nip of proper winter first would strengthen human gratitude, thought Spring… Now..."></div> </div> </div>

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