Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

wb yeats

The prompt for the bi-weekly theme in one of my favorite photography groups was "you are my wild".  My photograph was chosen in the top 10!  View my photo with the other picks on Snap Maven's blog.   With the prompt, an excerpt from a WB Yeats poem entitled The Stolen Child was listed.  After being reminded of the poem I had fallen in loved with so long ago, I immediately knew what I wanted to photograph.  My oldest daughter (by a whopping 23 minutes) is completely and utterly in love with Peter Pan and the story of Neverland.  I believe she loves the story so much because it is something that her soul longs for.  She is the embodiment of a fairy or at least an impish little elf.    She is a dreamer, her eyes see magic everywhere, and her natural gait is a springy tip toed frolic.  She twirls daily and dances to music that only she can hear.  She lives with only one foot in our world while the other foot is leaping towards rainbows, glittering stars, and far off lands hidden in her dreams.  I love that about her and a pray that she always sees the world through her fairy eyes. 

The Stolen Child

Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid out faery vats,
Full of berries
And the reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters of the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand.

 

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