"A Poison Tree"
William Blake
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I water'd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veil'd the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree.
William Blake's poem takes on an alchemist process of the soul when one holds wrath within. Here, poetic portrayed and metaphorically communicating it as "A Poison Tree."
One may find an inner peace in oneself that is blissful, everlasting, true and pure. To center oneself; to know oneself and always come back to one's spiritual center is a meditative practice that keeps ourselves connected to the ground and to the heavens; this makes us stronger, confident and true to oursel...