The Spirit of Delight

The absolute stillness of the misty winter morning patiently waits.

In stark contrast to the spirit of delight that within my heart and mind still stirs.

*Shelley’s words and **Elgar’s waves of sonorous sounds slowly abates

Leaving embers still glowing, but fading, into solitude’s stupor.

Do not we say, “me too!” to his list of love’s?

‘I love all that thou lovest,  

Spirit of Delight!

The fresh Earth in new leaves dressed,

And the starry night;

Autumn evening, and the morn

When the golden mists are born.

I love snow, and all the forms

Of the radiant frost;

I love waves, and winds, and storms,

Everything almost

Which is Nature's, and may be

Untainted by man's misery.

I love tranquil solitude,

And such society

As is quiet, wise, and good...’

But why does that ‘which is Nature’s’ almost universally inspire the Spirit of Delight

When the struggle for life in all its forms can be seen to be so brutal?

Is it the poet, the artist, the musician distorting our perceptions of the fight

For survival of all around us that sentimentalises all?

But no, they just put into words, colour and sound how we all see.

Associations of colour, rhythm, texture, size, perspective, smell, feel, taste -

Minute by minute from our birth we learn these and we all learn them differently,

A myriad influences, subtle and overt, generation on generation,

Continue our evolution

Without haste

I love new understanding that still thrills me with the Spirit of Delight,

Understanding, spiced with the hint of uncertainty,

But nevertheless born of corroborated scientific evidence.

Understanding of how things came to be and where things might become

Things that truly are awesome that cause us to question our very existence,

The answers to which, as we discover them and in heart and mind are found to be true,

Not just bring the Spirit of Delight but of oneness, unity and peace too.