ACT III

What Is So Rare As A Day In June?

Mother quoted poetry.

She shared with me that as a child they were required to memorize and recite long poems and readings.

When June rolled around each year she loved to recall one special one.

2002 saw her last June here on this earth. Most days she didn't even know who I was.....but when this month rolled around and I was able to make her understand that it had....she began once again ....

"And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays;
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;
Every clod feels a stir of might,
And instinct within it that reaches and towers,
And , groping blindly above it for light,
Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers;
The flush of life may well be seen.
Thrilling back over hills and valleys:
The cowslip startles in meadows green,
The buttercup catches the sun in it's chalice,
And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean
To be some happy creature's palace;
The little bird sits at his door in the sun,
Atiilt like a blossom among the leaves,
And lets his illumined being o'errun
With the deluge of summer it receives;
His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings,
And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings;
He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest,
In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best?"

The first stanza of a poem by James Russell Lowell


She didn't make it all the way through the verse that year, but when Brad found it on the internet and sat down beside her and read, her face lit up in remembrance! It was a blessing to see.