Sunday, October 31, 2010
When I was a bit of glittering dust I was preparing for Robert Louis Stevenson
When I was a bit of glittering dust in the wide beyond I liked poetry. A little bit of the glittering dust glittered in me and glitters still. It's a good feeling, knowing I am who I am, that decisions which seemed so foolish weren't. Okay, could have been handled in a differently but curvatures of space and time emphasize illusions of hindsight.
I had three different copies of A Child Garden's of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) as a kid. Each book had different illustrators, different illustrators. RLS inspires.
I look forward to the day he inspires illustrators and publishers of all nationalities or at least all nationalities impacted by colonialism and all nationalities whose children read RLS.
Down by a shining water well
I found a very little dell,
No higher than my head.
The heather and the gorse about
In summer bloom were coming out,
Some yellow and some red.
I called the little pool a sea;
The little hills were big to me;
For I am very small.
I made a boat, I made a town,
I searched the caverns up and down,
And named them one and all.
And all about was mine, I said,
The little sparrows overhead,
The little minnows too.
This was the world and I was king;
For me the bees came by to sing,
For me the swallows flew.
I played there were no deeper seas,
Nor any wider plains than these,
Nor other kings than me.
At last I heard my mother call
Out from the house at evenfall,
To call me home to tea.
And I must rise and leave my dell,
And leave my dimpled water well,
And leave my heather blooms.
Alas! and as my home I neared,
How very big my nurse appeared.
How great and cool the rooms!
Robert Louis Stevenson, A Child's Garden of Verses