8 Tir 1405
Quatrain 19 of 75
“And this delightful Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean—
Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!”
Reflection · Summer 1405
In summer the herb is fully grown — no longer tender, green and confident, covering the river's lip with the completeness of a season at its height. The leaning is easier, the grass thicker. But the question is the same: from what once lovely Lip does this spring? The summer river has a particular character — slower, warmer. Leaning on its lip in summer is an afternoon act, slow and contemplative.
Lean lightly anyway, even when the grass seems sturdy. The tenderness of the instruction is not about the physical durability of the plant but about the quality of attention you bring. Lightly: with reverence, with awareness of the depth beneath the surface. The summer grass is as ancient as the spring grass. The once lovely lips that made it are the same lips.