As May ended and June begins, Julie continues her amazing journey "drifting down the stream"...many visitors coming and going daily and wonderful hospice nurses. All the while, Julie is chatty as ever and even reciting poetry! She's comfortable and that's the most important thing, and one of us is always at the house. Another short blog posting this week for obvious reasons.
Daytime coyote stops to scratch an itch
One of the many poems Julie's been reciting this past week (reciting part - still an amazing feat, considering her state) - this poem was inspired by the painting below (poem follows).
Musee des Beaux Arts
W. H. Auden
About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.