Saturday, June 4, 2011
Beauty is its own excuse for being
and that is ok!
There is a poem called Rhodora by Ralph Waldo Emerson. And anytime I think about something that has no purpose but to exist for its own sake of existing, I think of this poem. Why do I buy flowers for my home? Because they are pretty. What is the purpose of these things? No purpose but for me to walk by them and say, "they are pretty." This blog serves little purpose but to be a blog - to entertain a few and to make me mindful. Enjoy!
In May winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals fallen in the pool
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,
Then beauty is its own excuse for Being;
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask; I never knew;
But in my simple ignorance suppose
The self-same power that brought me there, brought you.
Ralph Waldo Emerson