Today I would like to share with you a poem by Wordsworth.
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. --Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.
1 comment:
That is one very deep poem. Seems like it was written a long time ago, and yet it's just as pertinent today. So I suppose I can take comfort in knowing that the world is more or less the same today as it was hundreds and thousands of years ago -- with people behaving more or less the same way, more preoccupied with changing the world to bend to us, rather than us living in balance with the world as it is.
I'm grateful to study TCM where our intention is to learn to live more in balance with our environment. Sounds like you are too!
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