I hear it in the deep heart's core....

I am a list maker, a planner, an organizer supreme.  So why is it that I can't bring those skills to my blog and carefully plan out my topics?  Confession time:  I fly by the seat of my pants most mornings when I'm writing my posts, and I kind of like it that way.  My life is so routine and my blog gives me something different to think about, and I find myself reluctant to bring my ordinary, day-to-day sameness into my creative outlet.  But it does occasionally create a little moment of anxiety when I sit down to write and my mind goes blank! 

This morning got an extra early start with me waking up at 3 am and tossing and turning for a couple of hours.  But it wasn't really a frustrating experience, as I spent the time trying to decide which of the several poets clamoring for my attention will end up on today's post.  And since I'm featuring some of my all time favorite poems, today's choice is rather easy.  How about a little Yeats to start our Thursday off on a good note?  Yesterday's post about my trip to Maine a few years ago made me start thinking about some of the lovely cabins we have rented on our recent vacations.  All of them different and charming in their own way, but sharing a commonality in offering a quiet and secluded place to get away from the world that is 'too much with us', as Wordsworth penned.

Whether it was our Maine cabin, that offered us Adirondack chairs on the deck so we could put our feet up, nestle a steaming cup of tea in our hands and watch the sun set over the water, or maybe even grab a book and relax in a hammock while the waves lapped softly on the beach:

or our rustic "Bears' Den" cabin in Tennessee that welcomed us with sturdy front porch rocking chairs, perfect for winding down after a day's strenuous hiking:

 or our secluded New Hampshire cabin whose screened in porch offered us unbelievable lake views:

we felt like we had escaped to our own private island of seclusion, a place where we could wind down and remember the important things in life, like laughter and companionship and treasuring the ordinary moments that we all too often take for granted.  Three different cabins, three different states, and yet all three times the same poem came to my mind while sitting in a chair and breathing in the fresh air.  

I am sure this poet had a cabin in mind quite similar to what I've been lucky enough to experience.  I was lucky enough to find a little of that peace, that comes dropping slow from the veils of morning, and life, at that moment, is just about perfect.  Appropriately enough, this poem was inspired by Yeats' reading of Walden Pond, a favorite book of mine and another place I love to visit.  May we all be lucky enough to find our own moments of peace wherever our own Lake Isle exists.  Here then is The Lake Isle of Innisfree, by William Butler Yeats.

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core. 

And as an added treat, here is a lovely rendition of the old Gaelic song Isle of Inisfree, as performed by Celtic Woman and their stunning harpist Orla Fallon. 

 Isle of Inisfree

Have a wonderful day!