On the Wing
When Hope but made Tranquillity be felt--
A Flight of Hopes for ever on the wing
But made Tranquillity a conscious Thing--
And wheeling round and round in sportive coil
Fann'd the calm air upon the brow of Toil--
- "When Hope but made Tranquillity be felt" (fragment),
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
As I sit by the edge of the blue wild waters of Priest Lake, the sky stretches over the ripped edges of the Selkirk Mountains - untamed, vast. This quality of hugeness is the prime power plug of tranquility for me. That something, perhaps everything, lies outside the venue of human control and to a certain extent, destruction. The world exists around us, and despite us.
Over the still waters, beyond the bald scarred peaks of granite, rise the wishes of others winging back at me. Somehow, in this shared hope, I feel the connection to Colegridge's words. "A Flight of Hopes," as he put it, "for ever on the wing."
A Flight of Hopes for ever on the wing
But made Tranquillity a conscious Thing--
And wheeling round and round in sportive coil
Fann'd the calm air upon the brow of Toil--
- "When Hope but made Tranquillity be felt" (fragment),
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
As I sit by the edge of the blue wild waters of Priest Lake, the sky stretches over the ripped edges of the Selkirk Mountains - untamed, vast. This quality of hugeness is the prime power plug of tranquility for me. That something, perhaps everything, lies outside the venue of human control and to a certain extent, destruction. The world exists around us, and despite us.
Over the still waters, beyond the bald scarred peaks of granite, rise the wishes of others winging back at me. Somehow, in this shared hope, I feel the connection to Colegridge's words. "A Flight of Hopes," as he put it, "for ever on the wing."
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