Leaving Curtis Pond,
The starry floor,
The watery shore,
I'll given thee till break of day.
William Blake.
There is no farewell to these unending waters,
Or to these white lilies like candles in starlight,
Invisibly closed in invisible evening.
Nymphaea speak never of loss or of sorrow,
Though sunlight has fled from both petal and stamen.
At least,
Not in any sad tongue that I know of.
I moor my canoe at the sun-colored cottage,
Where bullfrogs call deep as the full moon arises.
I spend one more night in the house of rejoicing,
Spend one last night with the wind and the water.
Here I have written,
Have loved,
And have listened to the birds,
To the rain,
To the voices of children,
Who call as they swim at the pine-sheltered inlet.
Winter shall part me no more from their laughter.
After these years by the wind and the water,
The time comes to leave here.
Yet what is departure?
All things are impermanent,
So said Siddhartha.
Formless is form,
Form returns to the formless.
Once more to the dock,
Here the full moon's reflected,
In looking-glass water,
Where sunlit clouds questioned which is real,
Which reflection,
This earth or its vision.
Here is the answer,
O clouds on the water,
So many years later and so many partings.
I am at one with the wind and the water.
Here is the heart of the heart of all being.
I say no farewell to the lake,
To the joyous,
Like shadows that fade as the full moon arises.
All parting is form,
Changing into the formless.
Benedictus,
O wind in the trees on the shoreline,
Light that flows over the reed and the flower,
Grant unto those who come after me vision.
Let them have passion and joy for their hour.
Small scarlet boat in its half-hidden mooring,
Crimson-jewelled dragonflies rose tinted like red leaves of October in graceful reflection,
And unto all lovers sweet,
Sensuous delight.
The lady of the lake lived long upon the shore.
She held each changing season in embrace,
And to the pilgrim generous was and kind.
She guided me in goodness to this place,
The long sought home of all my many dreams.
Deep in the looking-glass of heart and mind,
The gazing eyes,
One with the gazed upon,
There may the essence of her thought convene,
Which,
With you,
New dweller,
On the singing pond,
And,
If you will,
To others lend this peace.
May wonder and compassion never cease.
Now in this house of dreams your own dreams spin.
Who after me shall seek the water and the wind?
Neither death nor time nor this last parting changes the joy in life I've found here,
Nor strangers.
By Isabella Fisk McFarlane,
Also known as Ladybel.
We would like to thank Alan Sherman for the use of his absolute astonishingly beautiful capture of the scenery around where this was written.
Thank you so much.
We appreciate you.
And then Isabella dedicates this specifically to Trudy,
The lady of the lake,
And to Trudy's family and obviously to Isabella's family and friends and to you.
This is a deeply moving part of Isabella's existence,
Time spent here became part of her and hopefully we have been able to paint the picture of the joy,
The beauty and a teensy bit of loss with the departure from such a heavenly place.
May we always feel the presence of the beauty and splendor Earth provides and may we keep it alive in our existence.
Thank you Isabella.
I love you.
And Brian,
Thank you.
I love you too.
Blessings everybody.
Until next time,
Can't wait to do this again.
Love you.
We love you so much.
Thank you.
