Life is dappled 
don't you know

Not all bright field 
Not all pitch black
Not all twilight
Not all dawn 

Life is dappled
don't you know 

Not all sunset
Not all dusk 
Not all half light 
Not all starlight 

Life is dappled 
don't you know 

More like
puddles of sunbeams strewn across the path 
More like 
mottled patches of shade upon the earth 
More like 
shadows cast, that lengthen towards the night 
More like 
shafts of golden rays that quicken the heart 

Life is dappled 
don't you know 

R.S. Thomas wrote a poem called ‘The Bright Field’. In this he writes the line, ‘life is not hurrying onto a receding future, nor hankering after an imagined past’. I often need to repeat this to myself.

Artist Meg Wroe has helped me by painting numerous images about this poem https://megwroe.com/bright-field. Stopping and looking at her art situates me in this present moment.

Bright field by Meg Wroe

When I read ‘The Bright Field’ and dwell on its’ images, it makes me think of my life as a film reel. When I view my life like this I am reminded that the field is always there. I try and notice where the sun has broken through and illuminated things for a while. I tell myself that when it is pitch dark, that it does not stay this way. The field is just beyond the trees. So I look out for shadows forming out of the darkness, I know then that light is on its’ way. The dawn has broken upon the field, is coming to brighten things for a while, to illuminate the treasure that is found here. Life will be dappled again.

Header image by Pexels from Pixabay

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