Garden of Omnifarious Delights

December 8, 2009

*

Though humble be
The bumblebee,
I’d rather rise
With butterflies.

Then back to earth
In time for spring
To metamorph
And colour bring.

When winter ends
And seasons cross,
No Mister Frost
No Scrooge or Grinch
Would fail to thaw
In new Seanhenge.

*

I dedicate this short whimsical poem to Omnium (a blog whose title will be familiar to Flann O’Brien fans), and to all its inhabitants and visitors, human and otherwise. There is a garden there, of both earthly and cosmic delights; Seanhenge is its name. It is well tended, and accordingly rich in flora and fauna, sometimes bearing the most unusual and intrepid fruit.

It is difficult to discern where Seanhenge ends and Omnium begins, since Seanhenge is there but also here, and Omnium is everywhere! In any case, Seanhenge is blessed with the consummate host: he is witty and welcoming, just and generous, sincere and surprising, cheerful and cherished. I am lucky to have wandered into his garden and its gathering of good people. Sean will not mind, I think, if I invite you to visit and explore for yourself.