This week I have a short poem for you about a plant in our garden. It’s about more than that, really, but I’ll let it speak for itself:
Thorn Bush
The bush in our garden
Is covered with thorns
This week I have a short poem for you about a plant in our garden. It’s about more than that, really, but I’ll let it speak for itself:
Thorn Bush
The bush in our garden
Is covered with thorns
Shoot for the moon, they say, and even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.
I‘m not so sure. I’m not denying it would be a thrill to take a walk on the moon, but I wouldn’t want to live there. I guess I like oxygen too much, and trees and water and birds. And I have absolutely no interest in landing among the stars, either. Do you know how hot those things are?
I know, I know, it’s metaphorical. No one wants to land on a literal star, they’d just like to be a star, or at least hang out with them in their exclusive clubs and private yachts. The saying just means dream big, have ambitions, and what’s wrong with that? Nothing.
It would definitely be a thrill to take a walk on the moon, or even on a red carpet, but I’d rather not live in either of those rarified atmospheres. I’m happy down here on Earth where I don’t have to breathe all that pressurised air. That’s why I’m not building a rocket. I’m tending a garden.
Continue reading Shooting For The Earth