‘Rosemary – that’s for remembrance..' <br /> <br />Can you smell it now? <br />that tough yet choosy herb, <br />giving of itself; <br /> <br />remembrance, perhaps, for Northern Europeans, <br />of that package tour to Crete: <br />rising early, that first morning, <br />the body clock not quite adjusted, <br /> <br />the sun already warming mountain-sides <br />before it reaches down into the valley; <br /> <br />already, the intoxicating scent of wild herbs <br />rolling slowly down the hillside, telling you, <br />this, this, could be paradise.. <br /> <br />below you, blue morning sea <br />beyond white walls of huddled houses.. <br />still in the air, the hint of night-time’s blessed dew.. <br /> <br />rosemary: did you think it named <br />after the fragrance of Mary’s own humility, <br />mingling with the scent of manger hay? <br />mingling with the sweetness of that day? <br /> <br />no – ‘ros marinus’, dew of the ocean, <br />is the meaning of its name… <br />though, how well it suits her memory.. <br /> <br />suits, too, that remembered Cretan morning; <br />for before the Romans, Indians used those words; <br />the dew, humidity, rather than humility; <br />marine, cognate with the words <br />for the clear, pure light of sun on sea… <br /> <br />that Cretan morning: <br />the rosemaried fragrance of remembrance; <br />sunshine and white walls adoring one another; <br />sky and sea, two shades of Maryblue.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-morning-scent-of-rosemary/
