Sic Transit Gloria Mundi

"How quickly passes the Glory of the World!"

Is how I feel now that I know an "ex-romantic figure from my life" is dying. Of course, we are all dying, little by little, every day. And I deeply feel the poignancy of the title to this piece, as have many in the past, present, and future will feel and have felt. The uncertainty of life is all around us, everyday, and the world rushes by as a nurse rushes to her charge, struggling in his bed.

Or, in a similar view of the "Sic transit" quote, Shakespeare's "All the world's a stage, and men and women merely players." 

But the loveliest is this:

Spring and Fall, to a young child           Gerard Manley Hopkins


Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.


It is a good thing that a birth, and the promise of the sun in the darkness is the 'reason for the season' coming up, or I might be held in this sadness all winter. I feel the grief for the passing of the year, and life, but have no where to turn my face except to the promise of renewal, and of spring time.

So today, I paint and decorate in the old colors of red and green, blood, fire and leaves, that our ancestors thought appropriate for their Winter celebrations. The Earth and it's death and renewal are the oldest things known to Humans. And the earth's song is reflected in our Winter lights, flashes of color, giving and receiving of cheer, and the pale blue of Hope, most of all.

And for those of you who miss the "Sassy Pants" me, do not doubt that I will see you tomorrow.