Rwy’n gwirioni ar y gerdd hon. Mae’n fy atgoffa o gryfder anhygoel natur, a’r cryfder y gallaf drwy fod yn garedig tuag ataf fi fy hun a gwneud amser i ofalu am fy lles meddyliol a chorfforol.
‘Seeds’ gan Walter de la Mare
The seeds I sowed –
For week unseen –
Have pushed up pygmy
Shoots of green;
So frail you’d think
The tiniest stone
Would never let
A glimpse be shown.
But no; a pebble
Near them lies,
At least a cherry-stone
In size,
Which that mere sprout
Has heaved away,
To bask in sunshine,
See the Day.
Cofnodion eraill
Gweld popeth
Mae Bill Withers yn codi fy ysbryd
Defnyddio’r ap ‘Active 10’ i gysylltu â byd natur
Cymryd camau bach a bod yn realistig gyda fy mwriadau
