There is a soft scent of thyme
when I walk barefoot through the garden
crushing tender leaves.

They may spread like weeds
but late in summer
with its purple flowers
they belong much more than me
to this nature that I’ve borrowed,
and called my garden.

There are people that are thyme
and those with heavy feet.

Today Grace wants us to write poetry inspired by Jane Hirshfield at toads. I found her poems intriguing in that she take something very specific from everyday and draw some wisdom from it. This is very far from my normal writing, but I love to expand myself. I will also link this to Poetry Pantry tomorrow.

May 9, 2015

52 responses to “Thyme

  1. Oh, I hope I am one who (most of the time) walks like thyme. I would not want to be the one to crush anyone’s leaves…..or spirit.

  2. Nice and fresh. I connect with this for a weird reason because just last week while cooking something I could finally differentiate between all the herbs!

  3. A lovely poem. I particularly like:
    ‘this nature that I’ve borrowed,
    and called my garden.’

  4. I too love that line, the borrowed beauty of nature, and called my garden ~ I am happy to see you are inspired by Jane’s style ~ Happy Sunday and weekend to you Bjorn ~

  5. How much we can learn from the world and nature in its fecundity. Sadly we are becoming blind and deaf concerning our own planet.

  6. Lovely write, Björn- as you say, far from your usual style but some great lines….I,too, love
    “This nature that I’ve borrowed
    and called my garden”

  7. belonging and walking careful so that we do not crush others… i love the wisdom in this… and i love thyme… with potatoes…hmmmm

  8. it may not be your “normal” style of writing, Björn, but it’s wonderful! i can practically smell the thyme…

  9. What a wonderful exploration – much further than the confines of a garden…right there under our feet..if we listen and gently pause is the whole world..beautiful (and love the idea of a barefoot walk in any garden)

  10. Your final couplet is a delightful leap into dualism after the fragrance of the herb garden and the question of which one is the weed in nature– the human or the thyme–which is a little more open. Indeed, walking in your garden (and this poem) is a test of time! Delightfully so!

  11. I like the straightforward meaning as well as the undertone here Bjorn. It’s really very effective. First, as the gardener in spring time. Second, as a responsible person to his fellowmen.

    Really great writing Bjorn.

  12. “to this nature that I’ve borrowed,
    and called my garden.”

    luv the reverence of these 2 lines; the gratefulness to our stewardship here on planet earth, i find this poem very profound yet so simply written; amazing write

    much love…

  13. The scent of thyme, and all the aromatics like rosemary, basil, oregano, are really only released when they are crushed–your poem does a superb job of showing us how that metaphor plays out.

  14. very nice, mi amigo. i like your interaction with nature and your borrowing it but i really enjoyed your last verse…There are people that are thyme and those with heavy feet


  15. Lovely – and I agree, much wisdom in: There are people that are thyme and those with heavy feet.
    Anna :o]

    • Oh, and thanks for the idea of audio (when you used soundcloud, i went and checked it out). I have been toying with the idea of an audio CD of the poems, in the back cover of my book… and I think I’ll keep experimenting with it. I did enjoy the dimensions it gave your work.

  16. A life of suffering and enduring..we show our true selves by the way we react to that suffering.
    Beautiful composition.

  17. Your descriptions are beautiful, and after reading Mary’s comment, they touch me even more deeply. I’m specifically led to consider how I relate to the people in my own household — my children and husband, who have tender leaves and purple blossoms, which I’m here to nurture and handle gently.

    There were a couple of sections that I stumbled over:

    “they belong much more than me” You follow this with “to,” but I guess my ears were anticipating “they belong to much more than me.”

    “There are people that are thyme
    and those with heavy feet.” This is such a powerful, thought-provoking ending. I think I would reword it like this to make it a little easier to read: “There are people who are thyme, and there are those who have heavy feet.”

    Obviously, the way in which I write is ridiculously difficult to read. So feel free to completely ignore me here. 🙂 What on earth do I know?!

    • Ha,, yes I could see what you mean.. the linebreaks are more to be seen as pauses in the reading than a break of thought. That’s why I have started to always punctuate my poems. My sentences tend to roll over several linebreaks, so I guess if you think of it as prose it does make sense in a way.

      they belong much more than me, to this nature that I’ve borrowed, and called my garden.

      The same is true for the completing couplet.

      And yes we all have our own ways of writing. But I appreciate your input, I have to make it clear what I write

  18. What glorious verse! For me, it has all the hallmarks of a classic, indelible piece of timeless poetry. There is something so genuine and lovely about the truth that is holds (so snugly) – you just want to hold it close to your heart.

  19. I’m glad that you have blooming flowers late. Thyme can give you a big lift then. My ginger plants do the same for me, they will be blooming in about a week. They are out in the winter but come up from their rooty bulbs every spring.

  20. Have never seen fresh thyme and those purple flowers, bjorn. Fantastic imagery and a lovely attempt.
    Hope I get to see some of these aromatic patches when I am there this time.
    Would love to meet you. Shall send you the details soon.

  21. Thyme is one of my favorite herbs. Very nice poem. It reminds me of spring time.

  22. I love the notion of ‘heavy feet’ and ‘thyme’ …thinking we happen to find ourselves from either side…depends on experience and intention….not so bad, when learning not to harm ‘the twig where you sit’. Interesting read!

  23. This gave me gooseflesh! First the idea of walking barefoot through thyme/time and then your closing…whoosh…so powerful…love what you say without saying. Excellent poem, Bjorn.

  24. You did an excellent job of taking something from everyday life and drawing wisdom from it. I could almost smell your garden as you took us on your walk. Thanks for visiting my blog as well.

  25. Love those last lines. And this:
    “to this nature that I’ve borrowed,
    and called my garden.”

    I, too, have borrowed many a beautiful place, and called it my garden.

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