Older than Words
No matter where I go in the world, I seek wild places. If I cannot find wilderness, then a place where there are more plants than people will do. Wandering through the National Botanic Gardens in Dublin one icy, grey January day, I imagine how this expanse looked when the Vikings invaded Ireland in the 8th century: “wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern” (Gerard Manley Hopkins, “Inversnaid”). Wild oaks clawed at the stars. Brambles raked the backs of unwary beasts. And then came humans:
Long ago the heath
was tamed into a garden
dotted with duck ponds.
Still, there are whiffs of wildness in this place: the raven, bragging of its exploits; the lugubrious willow, mourning the loss of its summer finery; even the eastern breeze trying to be polite as it rustles the reeds. By a language older than words, my soul is restored.
Posted on January 23, 2013, in Carpe Diem, Dublin, Ein Stück Himmel, haibun, Himmelsk, Ireland, National Botanic Gardens, Sensational Haiku Wednesday, Three Word Wednesday. Bookmark the permalink. 26 Comments.