Remember Field of Dreams, (1989) with Kevin Costner? “Build it, and they will come.” the line echoed by James Earl Ray. I believe this about life, I really do. I read a small book from the early 1900’s and I do not recall the author, or the title, but he spoke of working with the grey matter, the materia prima, although he did not use the Latin term, he called it grey matter. He said if necessary, “To deny the obvious.” Deny the obvious if it is not the reality you wish to manifest. I am a natural at denial, I live by the river de nile. For some years now I have held a focus for the world and my dream, if I watched the news, which I do not, it might appear that my denial was not working, but I still believe it is. Build it and they will come.
This has held true in my creation of my garden. You know how I go on about, “I do believe in fairies! I do. I do!” well I do, and with the assistance of my co-creator boyfriend we have brought a fairy paradise to life. A huge branch fell from the tree several months ago, and when that branch fell, I fell in love with its aesthetic of a magical wood. So I kept it and started to imagine and visual it as a place that fairies would build their houses and live. Well if you are my friend and come to my graduation next year you can see it. I hope it retains its magic in the blazing summer heat but every other season it is enchanting. Build it and it, and they will come!
To a Mouse
Little, crafty, cowering, timid little beast,
Oh, what a panic is in your little breast!
You need not start away so hasty
With argumentative chatter!
I would be loath to run and chase you,
With murdering plough.
I’m truly sorry man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
And justifies that ill opinion
Which makes you startle
At me, your poor, earth born companion
And fellow mortal!
I doubt not, sometimes, that you may steal;
What then? Poor little beast, you must live!
An odd ear in twenty-four sheaves
Is a small request;
I will get a blessing with what is left,
And never miss it.
Your small house, too, in ruin!
Its feeble walls the winds are scattering!
And nothing now, to build a new one,
Of coarse green foliage!
And bleak December’s winds coming,
Both bitter and piercing!
You saw the fields laid bare and wasted,
And weary winter coming fast,
And cozy here, beneath the blast,
You thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel plough passed
Out through your cell.
That small heap of leaves and stubble,
Has cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you are turned out, for all your trouble,
Without house or holding,
To endure the winter’s sleety dribble,
And hoar-frost cold.
But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!
Still you are blessed, compared with me!
The present only touches you:
But oh! I backward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary!
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear!
That is the translation from Wiki
Follow link for original Scottish