If Your Yoga Class Were A Poem This Is How It Would Sound (Wonder by Thomas Traherne)



How like an angel came I down! 
How bright are all things here! 
When first among his works I did appear 
O how their glory me did crown! 
The world resembled his eternity, 
In which my soul did walk; 
And ev’ry thing that I did see 
Did with me talk. 

The skies in their magnificence, 
The lively, lovely air; 
Oh how divine, how soft, how sweet, how fair! 
The stars did entertain my sense, 
And all the works of God, so bright and pure, 
So rich and great did seem, 
As if they ever must endure 
In my esteem. 

A native health and innocence 
Within my bones did grow, 
And while my God did all his glories show, 
I felt a vigour in my sense 
That was all spirit. I within did flow 
With seas of life, like wine; 
I nothing in the world did know 
But ’twas divine. 

Harsh ragged objects were conceal’d, 
Oppressions tears and cries, 
Sins, griefs, complaints, dissensions, weeping eyes 
Were hid, and only things reveal’d 
Which heav’nly spirits, and the angels prize. 
The state of innocence 
And bliss, not trades and poverties, 
Did fill my sense. 

The streets were pav’d with golden stones, 
The boys and girls were mine, 
Oh how did all their lovely faces shine! 
The sons of men were holy ones, 
In joy and beauty they appear’d to me, 
And every thing which here I found, 
While like an angel I did see, 
Adorn’d the ground. 

Rich diamond and pearl and gold 
In ev’ry place was seen; 
Rare splendours, yellow, blue, red, white and green, 
Mine eyes did everywhere behold. 
Great wonders cloth’d with glory did appear, 
Amazement was my bliss, 
That and my wealth was ev’ry where: 
No joy to this! 

Curs’d and devis’d proprieties, 
With envy, avarice 
And fraud, those fiends that spoil even Paradise, 
Flew from the splendour of mine eyes, 
And so did hedges, ditches, limits, bounds, 
I dream’d not aught of those, 
But wander’d over all men’s grounds, 
And found repose. 

Proprieties themselves were mine, 
And hedges ornaments; 
Walls, boxes, coffers, and their rich contents 
Did not divide my joys, but all combine. 
Clothes, ribbons, jewels, laces, I esteem’d 
My joys by others worn: 
For me they all to wear them seem’d 
When I was born.

If you enjoyed this post you might also like to read a commentary on the poem Tree by Jane Hirshfield.

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If Your Yoga Class Were A Poem This Is How It Would Sound (Wonder by Thomas Traherne)
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