I thought of this poem the other day as I was driving into work. Our complex is lined with rows of beautiful trees - trees, which a few weeks ago provided gorgeous multi-colored canopy over the road. Now, those same trees are stark and barren.
I love how this poem speaks to the changing of seasons, but also to the changes that we go through as we age and how we often long for the past.
Spring and Fall: To a Young Child
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
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