A Heart that Watches and Receives

Witnessing the Tree of Life, for the first time, was interesting. As I walked towards it, I could tell that the tree was fairly large, but for some reason my mind took a while to register the enormity of it. It was not until I stood under its branches that I realized its size. A falling branch would be enough to kill me, or seriously injure me at the very least. I wanted to climb it, and I wanted to stay safe at the same time. Its branches were so warped and abnormal that it seemed otherworldly to me or maybe like something that did not belong in New Orleans.

It is difficult to put emotions into words.

Descriptions might come easy, especially since we are so used to dissecting what we see so that we can understand it. Even though we may not describe it in words. But when it comes to how we feel over certain things, specifics are usually too vague, generic or complicated. Yet, at the same time, we as humans would rather be able to express ourselves as best as we can, so as not to seem like a fool when speaking to another.

 

Perhaps, when seeking to describe what we see and feel we lose sight of the simple beauty in all things. Something that is likely to come up as we grow older, and our minds “more” intelligent.

“Enough of Science and of Art;

Close up those barren leaves;

Come forth and bring with you a heart

That watches and receives.”

-Wordsworth; Tables Turned (28-32)

While Wordsworth himself gives good advice, it is strangely hypocritical in the fact that he would mention “Enough of Science and Art” when poetry is a form of art, and many of the lines in this poem speak of the beauty of nature. Either Wordsworth did not realize this (which is unlikely) or he expected himself to be an exception to this rule.