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Beings who live in parts of the world that have four seasons really look forward to summer with a great deal of joy.

It has arrived here and we are all making the most of this joyous season, filled with flowers, blooming trees, butterflies, bees, and birdsong.

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Thank you Inda.

This is a very nice post. I have been waiting for summer. It has been somewhat cool and rainy here, but summer has finally arrived with all its flowers, birds, blossoming fruit trees and bright, warm sunshine.

Love,
yoko



What a beautiful, sunny morning. It makes you happy to be alive, doesn't it? We can't let the sun outshine us! We have to beam too.

-Takayuki Ikkaku
Thank you for the beautiful summer thread Inda,
and I am really enjoying this season. I just hope that it will last for a long time, since we had a bit of a late start.

Love,
Sue


Then followed that beautiful season... Summer....
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Last edited by Sue 1
Emily Dickinson


A something in a summer’s day,
As slow her flambeaux burn away,
Which solemnizes me.

A something in a summer’s noon,—
An azure depth, a wordless tune,
Transcending ecstasy.

And still within a summer’s night
A something so transporting bright,
I clap my hands to see;

Then veil my too inspecting face,
Lest such a subtle, shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me.

The wizard-fingers never rest,
The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes its narrow bed;

Still rears the East her amber flag,
Guides still the sun along the crag
His caravan of red,

Like flowers that heard the tale of dews,
But never deemed the dripping prize
Awaited their low brows;

Or bees, that thought the summer’s name
Some rumor of delirium
No summer could for them;

Or Arctic creature, dimly stirred
By tropic hint,—some travelled bird
Imported to the wood;

Or wind’s bright signal to the ear,
Making that homely and severe,
Contented, known, before

The heaven unexpected came,
To lives that thought their worshipping
A too presumptuous psalm.


Last edited by Vicky2
When the lotus opened, I didn't notice and went away empty-handed.

Only now and again do I suddenly sit up from my dreams to smell a strange fragrance.
It comes on the south wind, a vague hint that
makes me ache with longing, like the eager
breath of summer wanting to be completed.
I didn't know what was so near, or that it was mine.

This perfect sweetness blossoming in the depth of my heart.

~Rabindranath Tagore

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Summer is truly here.
Enjoy a walk in the beautiful landscape.

Love, Inda
**********



"There is dew
on these poems in the morning,
and at night a cool breeze may rise from them.

In the winter they are blankets, in the summer a place to swim.

I like talking to you like this. Have you moved
a step closer?

Soon we may be
kissing."
— Kabir
Last edited by Inda

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