Thoughtful Thursday

First off, thanks ever so much to Miss Britt over at Ask and Ye Shall Receive for taking the time to honestly review my blog page. She gave many good pointers and much for me to think about. As a new blogger, I have so much to learn. Look for a new and improved B someday soon.

On to today's TT*. One of my favorite authors has to be Alexander McCall Smith. He is the fine fellow who has written the "No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" series, as well as "The Sunday Philosophers' Club" series, and the "44 Scotland Street" series. Today's poem comes at the end of "Love Over Scotland", as one of the characters gives a toast to a friend who has just come back from a mission abroad.

* A warning before you proceed. Make sure you're well-caffeinated, as this post is more that 2 lines long. If you don't have the patience for poetry, now would be a good time to leave. There will be no brevity, no swearing, nor any talk of vaginas - just bland, bland, bland - 24/7. So sorry - I guess you'll have to go elsewhere. Save yourselves!!


A Poem on the Subject of Maps:

“Although they are useful sources

Of information we cannot do without,

Regular maps have few surprises; their contour lines

Reveal where the Andes are, and are reasonably clear

On the location of Australia, and the Outer Hebrides;

Such maps abound; more precious, though,

Are the unpublished maps we make ourselves,

Of our city, our place, our daily world, our life;

Those maps of our private world

We use every day; here I was happy, in that place

I left my coat behind after a party,

That is where I met my love; I cried there once,

I was heartsore; but felt better round the corner

Once I saw the hills of Fife across the Forth,

Things of that sort, our personal memories,

That make the private tapestry of our lives.

Old maps had personified winds,

Gusty figures from whose bulging cheeks

Trade winds would blow; now we know

That wind is simply a matter of isobars;

Science has made such things mundane,

But love – that, at least, remains a mystery,

Why it is, and how it comes about

That love’s transforming breath, that gentle wind,

Should blow its healing way across our lives.”

Alexander McCall Smith