Chapels of coalescence,vestibules of variety, gardens of sunshine.
In this neck ‘o’ woods this weekend is the Kite Festival, a compendium of culture & comment for the curious – a few visitors have been in the shop this morning, getting their weekend off and away with a little literary boost – it’s always lovely chatting with visitors to Coles and I guess bookshops become magnets for like-minded souls – chapels of coalescence,vestibules of variety, gardens of sunshine.
The poet Louis MacNeice is new to us. Born in Belfast in the early 20th century, his work in collaboration with other poets was widely published during the 1930s and 40s, a time of conflict and turmoil. This particular poem ‘The Sunlight on the Garden’ is particularly lovely, if a little melancholy, with a gentle tone leaning towards our fleeting place and time in the world.
The Sunlight on the Garden by Louis MacNeice
The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold;
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.
Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.
The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying
And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.
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