From tropic soil where spices grow, Cardamom seeds in warm winds flow. Distilled with care, their oils release, A fragrant gift of calm and peace.
Called “Queen of Spices” long ago, From India’s hills to Guatemala’s glow. A sweet and spicy breath it brings, A treasure prized by queens and kings.
It soothes the stomach, lightens care, A gentle aid for troubles there. In kitchens, hearts, and homes it stays, A friend through nights and brighter days.
Diffused, its scent uplifts the mind, Clarity and focus you will find. For study hours or quiet prayer, Its grounding touch is always there.
When seasons shift and breath feels tight, Cardamom lends a steady light. Its vapors clear, the chest feels free, A comfort shared through history.
Egypt’s halls and India’s tea, Whispers of cardamom still roam free. A spice, a song, a timeless balm, Forever fragrant, warm, and calm.
The Blue Lotus blooms on waters wide, A sacred flower once Egypt’s pride. They laid it on kings, in tombs of gold, A symbol of life, as stories told.
Its blossoms are rare, the harvest brief, Gathered at dawn with care and belief. Solvent-extracted, the fragrance stays, A floral delight with honeyed rays.
Soft notes of fruit and green combine, A calming perfume, both sweet and fine. A drop on the skin or wrists will show, How peace within the spirit can grow.
Squalene within helps skin to retain, Moisture and balance, easing the strain. Benzyl alcohol brings scalp relief, Supporting hair with gentle belief.
From Southeast ponds, the blossoms rise, Picked by hand as the sun paints skies. Harvesters work with skill and grace, To keep each bloom in its purest place.
Rare in supply, yet treasured so true, Blue Lotus oil is a gift to renew. A jewel of calm, both ancient and near, It whispers of peace for those who hear.
The phrase “Rest and Be Thankful” is often linked to William Wordsworth, the great Romantic poet, but its roots run deeper in British and Scottish history. It became widely known due to the Rest and Be Thankful Pass in Scotland, a breathtaking spot along the A83 road in Argyll and Bute. In the 18th century, British soldiers built a military road through the rugged Highlands after the Jacobite uprisings, and the climb was so demanding that, upon reaching the summit, weary travelers would pause, rest, and express gratitude. The phrase was even engraved on a stone marker, serving as a timeless reminder that even in life’s most challenging journeys, one should stop, breathe, and appreciate the moment.
Although Wordsworth did not originate the phrase, he deeply embraced its sentiment in his writings and poetry. He found solace and renewal in nature, often encouraging his readers to pause, reflect, and find beauty in the world around them. His poem Tintern Abbey echoes this philosophy, describing how time spent in nature becomes a source of peace, healing, and cherished memories. Wordsworth believed that spiritual rest and gratitude were essential, and his poetry invites us to step away from the busyness of life and immerse ourselves in the stillness and wisdom of the natural world.
Today, “Rest and Be Thankful” remains a powerful call to pause and appreciate life’s journey, whether in moments of joy or hardship. Whether inspired by a Scottish landscape, Wordsworth’s poetic reflections, or the simple need for rest in a fast-paced world, the phrase reminds us to embrace gratitude and find renewal in stillness. It speaks to the universal human need for both physical and spiritual rest, reminding us that even the hardest climbs deserve a moment of reflection and thankfulness at the top.
Excerpt from Tintern Abbey
(Lines 142–159)
“Therefore let the moon Shine on thee in thy solitary walk; And let the misty mountain-winds be free To blow against thee: and, in after years, When these wild ecstasies shall be matured Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance— If I should be where I no more can hear Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence—wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together.”
Where northern winds sing soft and low, Through mist and moss, the spruces grow. By rivers wide and swamps so deep, Their roots in ancient waters keep.
A healer’s touch, a sacred tree, A gift from earth, wild and free. For generations, hands have known, Its soothing touch on skin and bone.
A breath of pine, crisp and bright, To clear the air, to bring in light. A drop diffused, the chest expands, Like forests vast in distant lands.
A quiet strength, a calming balm, In weary hearts, it whispers calm. Blended soft with chamomile, It eases aches and soothes with style.
Its essence lingers, fresh and true, A cleansing wave, the air renewed. With frankincense, a sacred pair, To sharpen focus, scent the air.
Through swamps and hills, it holds its place, A tree of wisdom, strength, and grace. From ancient roots to healing hands, Black spruce endures, where nature stands.
From ancient lands where spices bloom, A tiny seed, a bold perfume. With warmth and fire, rich and deep, A healer’s touch, a strength to keep.
A warrior spice through time it stands, Once traded gold in distant lands. It graced the tables of the old, A treasure worth its weight in gold.
A drop to calm, to ease the mind, A scent so strong, yet warm and kind. To muscles sore, it brings relief, A touch of heat, a sigh of peace.
It stirs the pot, enhances taste, No meal too simple, none to waste. A spark in soups, on meats it sings, A depth of flavor, bold it brings.
Within its oil, a shield is found, To fight the threats that move around. A daily drop, a steady guide, To guard the body from inside.
For troubled thoughts, for restless nights, It soothes the heart, restores the light. A breath of spice, a touch so pure, A timeless gift, a power sure.
A humble seed, yet bold and grand, A fiery warmth in every land. From dish to remedy, near and far, Black pepper shines—a healing star.
Oh Yuzu, bright and golden gem, A treasure from the East’s rich hem. Your citrus kiss, a tart embrace, A dance of Mandarin and Grapefruit’s grace.
For centuries past, in Japan’s serene lands, You’ve graced the air, soothed weary hands. A zesty balm, a fragrant art, To calm the mind and heal the heart.
In diffusers, you softly bloom, Chasing away the cloud of gloom. A few mere drops, a calming breeze, Melting tension with effortless ease.
In creams and mists, your scent does glide, A personal fragrance, worn with pride. Soft whispers on the skin you leave, A touch of joy, a sense reprieve.
When breath grows shallow, and lungs feel tight, You bring relief, restore the light. A blend with coconut, a soothing trail, To conquer congestion, you never fail.
Oh Yuzu, citrus spirit divine, Your therapeutic gifts forever shine. A timeless essence, pure and true, A gift from nature, dear Yuzu.
From Northern Africa’s sunlit plains, To Europe’s fields and gentle rains, A cousin to peppermint’s cool delight, Bergamot mint warms hearts day and night.
Its essence drifts in a fragrant breeze, Promoting breath with gentle ease. Add to your diffuser, let it flow, And feel your lungs with calmness grow.
For plants in need of a bug-free stay, A simple spray will keep pests away. With drops of mint in water’s swirl, It guards the green with a natural pearl.
A soothing touch for stomach’s plight, A drop or two will set it right. Mixed in water, its powers bloom, Easing discomfort, chasing gloom.
In tea or treats, its flavor sings, A whisper of mint, delight it brings. One small drop, a world enhanced, In every sip, your taste buds dance.
Bergamot mint, a friend so true, With gifts for health and flavor too. A simple plant, yet rich and wise, A treasure beneath wide-open skies.
Bergamot blooms where the climate is right, In sun-soaked soil, kissed by light. A citrus gem, both rare and sweet, Its gifts to us are pure and complete.
In Italy’s hands, its power unfurled, Soothing stress in a bustling world. Diffuse its drops when tensions rise, And feel calm wash through, a sweet surprise.
A shower’s steam, a calming embrace, Bergamot purifies skin with grace. One drop, a breath, its aroma unfurls, A tranquil gift from nature’s pearls.
For bedtime peace, a massage supreme, Bergamot oils create a dream. Applied to feet with gentle care, Relaxation fills the evening air.
A cleanser’s touch, a drop or two, Bergamot makes your skin anew. Its purifying touch, a natural art, Caring for your skin and heart.
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