Rhodora in the Field

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals fallen in the pool
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,
Then beauty is its own excuse for Being;
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask; I never knew;
But in my simple ignorance suppose
The self-same power that brought me there, brought you.


The Rhodora, by Ralph Waldo Emerson


As I've mentioned before, at times the field can seem rather plain. But now, when the light strikes just right, there is a blush of pink scattered amid all the green and brown. Brave the ticks and walk out into the field and there are low rhodora bushes in bloom all over. I've lived in more colorful places, but here you really appreciate these small bits and splashes of color when they do arrive.


The poem has been put to music as well.