“Midwinter spring is its own season
Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches,
In windless cold that is the heart’s heat,
Reflecting in a watery mirror
A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon.
And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier,
Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but Pentecostal fire
In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing
The soul’s sap quivers. There is no earth smell
Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time
But not in time’s covenant. Now the hedgerow
Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom
Of snow, a bloom more sudden
Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading,
Not in the scheme of generation.
Where is the summer, the unimaginable
Zero summer?”
poem: extract from Little Gidding by T. S. Eliot.
Solstice. acrylic painting by clinock.
A beautiful beautiful Solstice, my dear friend. 🙂
LikeLike
Believing in the return of light, the sacred and eternal cycle…nothing is more ancient than this…
LikeLike
Indeed, my friend.
LikeLike
Winter makes me think of walking through High Park with you gathering small pieces of wood for the fireplace and coming upon those forgotten sculptures. It was so magical how they just appeared. I love this painting.
LikeLike
Hello dear Mogs, it’s always special when you appear. Thanks for the gentle memory. High Park, so amusingly appropriate name considering…ha…ha…ha. Glad I am that you like this painting my oldest and most lovely buddy.
LikeLike
Your painting looks like a landscape in ice from in bird’s view. Lovely. Over here it is too warm for the season. 🙂 I don’t mind!
LikeLike
from a bird’s view I meant.
LikeLike
I understand birds view and sail with you over a winter landscape. It was a new experience for me, thank you…
LikeLike
One small yellow dot on the picture plane…an aural canal between worlds. Press me….
LikeLike
Press me, touch me, click me,
wave your nakedness
focusing deep within,
until the earthquake…
“John had
Great Big
Waterproof
Boots on;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Hat;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Mackintosh —
And that
(Said John)Is
That.’
LikeLiked by 1 person
Merry Berries Mr. Wizard….
LikeLike
Merry Christmas
LikeLike
And a very Merry Christmas to you and yours Carl, from the heart…
LikeLike
Rusty cracks in the ice. Stunning.
LikeLike
Thank you Mark…
LikeLike
scraping windows
for better views
~
glove compartments
with no gloves
cold hands
dreaming love
LikeLike
This is a pure gem
sung by angels and punks
accompanied by Yo Yo Ma
and the London Symphony
LikeLike
My god this is beautiful John. Absolutely love this painting.
LikeLike
thank you very much Steven, you reward my heart…
LikeLike
And love love love the line ‘Of snow, a bloom more sudden…’
LikeLike