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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Daily Cascade
#1086447 added April 2, 2025 at 11:31am
Restrictions: None
On a Spring Quote
Prompt:
"Like a familiar melody recalls a beloved song, the sweetest perfume of blossoms sprouting from the earth reminds our hearts that spring has arrived."
Write about this in your Blog entry today.


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I gather this quote is all about sensory experiences. Sometimes, with me, a few notes or bars of music can trigger a recall of an entire song or a memory attached to it. Just maybe, there's something deeply human about comparing nature to music, but also other senses can come into play.

Now that I have allergies, my nose isn't as effective as it used to be, but a whiff of spring flowers awakens more than a sneeze in me. It awakens something that belonged to my much younger years. So, possibly, my sense of smell might have been messed with, but my heart remembers.

What I and others usually experience through our senses is like taking snapshots or suddenly coming across old snapshots of earlier times. This makes me wonder with awe at the depth of the memories of our sensory perceptions.

Just where does a mind store all that? How does it bypass our logical brain? Why does it stir deep emotions, to boot? Does this mean one spring was the mother of all the others that came later?

It is as if my senses are writing my autobiography and digging up stuff I would never have recalled consciously. Maybe what my mind cannot remember exactly, my heart always will.

And yes, spring also has arrived to just about everywhere.



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