Pentecost Week: Wednesday

If I were obtuse to signs and symbols,

You would make me a mystic yet,

Eager eyes fixed to the skies.

Pentecost week:

Yesterday there was a cloud in my path

For all appearances

Exactly like a dove

Just lifting off in flight--

Or perhaps alighting on some branch,

A deep, fluttering calm,

And I wondered.

Today, sprinkles of sweet rain from heaven.

And lest you say it is spring,

And rain no great thing for May,

I tell you the rain fell upon the desert,

Upon thirsty ground,

Upon weary, haggard land,

Washing it clean,
Quenching deep-rooted thirst.

Puddle Dreams

For Chronicles of Narnia lovers, and a companion to Jessica's poem Puddles:

Two tiny birds, wildflower yellow

perch on the edge of a shining puddle,

Bodies reflected upside-down unbroken.

They have more courage than I:

Courage to chance finding wonder, joy, and new worlds;

Courage to chance bringing the disease of our destruction

On an untainted world.

They have more courage than I:

Courage to chance ruin

On their dreams of the mind;

To chance the world shrinking

By one gleaming possibility.

Why Life is like Violets

The violets have started blooming, as have the daffodils.

Don't get me wrong--I like the daffodils, with their bright rays of sunshine heralding spring amidst a world that still seems a little dubious at times (like snowing all day Friday).

But I really love violets.  I remember even when I was a very little girl getting excited when I found violets in the backyard.  They're tiny, simple flowers, but beautiful in their own right.  You would miss seeing them completely if you weren't looking or didn't keep your eyes open, because they are really just little flecks of purple hidden in the greening grass.  But if you do keep your eyes open, they too are forerunners of spring.  They are small and ordinary but very lovely whenever in bloom, and particularly exciting to find in the first chilly weeks of spring.

Daffodils are impossible to miss--I saw them blooming along the road today and couldn't help but be glad.

But violets, I think, are more like life.  There are nearly always tiny moments of beauty, small things that bring joy and pleasure, hidden throughout everyday existence.  It is easy to walk over them and never know; to pass through a field full of them but be too consumed with my own thoughts, worries, and tasks that I miss them altogether.  It takes keeping your eyes open, paying attention where you step, being willing to be surprised by moments of beauty in the everyday and find joy in the small, simple things.

The little things are important, too, even if they aren't so obvious.  Did you know, for instance, that the common violet is the Illinois state flower?  It's on the state website.

So keep your eyes open and enjoy the blooming of violets in spring :).

Obligatory Spring Poem

Spring
    (or, Unlike March, April Presumes No Affectations)

Birdsong heralds dawn;
Tiny, soft green shoots sprout in
Fields of dry brown grass.

A Line-Storm Song

     Robert Frost

The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift, 

  The road is forlorn all day, 

Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, 

  And the hoof-prints vanish away. 

The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,

  Expend their bloom in vain. 

Come over the hills and far with me, 

  And be my love in the rain. 

March

March

never aims to please;

is never one for sentimentality
or prim and proper subtleties.
Biting paradox is her specialty
whene'er her whim is to be ornery
and a trail of vexed casualties
can always be found in graves or on knees.
A day of sun!—warm, balmy skies—
     the next, a cold, harsh freeze
to sting your very eyes.
Then allergies,
make one sniffle and sneeze,
to make one run and then to wheeze—
and she laughs at all her falsities.
We forgive her when she coaxes
     blossoms onto trees,
recalling how Spring
     always wins in spite of her complexities,
and curse her yet again
     for all the grievances we see
when she'll caress the trees with sympathy
only to bully and crow obscenities.
She'll drive us to perplexities,
she'll mock, berate, taunt, and tease,

but March

never

aimed to please.

blurred and weary

The bland gray of monotonous days
trudging along with the heaviness of tired self,
accelerated by challenge of work upon work,
the heavy murmur of failure in disquiet ears.

Singing birds give a pretense of life.
But Spring has regressed,
sunk back into grey, chill Winter,
and any green is lost
beneath dirty snow.



Friday's darkness descends
and heavy clouds obscure all light.
What suffering, O what torment!
We hold our breath in somber expectation.

Glorious dawn of Sunday--
O what joy, O what hope!
People across all the nations
join in celebrating, rejoicing;
we recall life is so much greater than us.



Torrents of April rain
whisper hope of an eventual Spring
while dismal must-piles
demand focus of a weary brain.

O Great God, let there be hope in me
as in the larking, light-hearted air-minstrels;
let there be joy and trust in me
as in the flow'ring boughs.
And let me bring you glory with each trudging day that comes.


[amen]

Psalm of Life, or An April Hymn

Delighted wind of April,
Softly blessed by sun’s jubilance,
Fingers goose bumps on my open arms
Now soothed by sun’s gentle glance.

Has it been so long since the birds
Trebled joy into the air?
And how long must we wait for that final Spring
When all is completed in a morning fair?

My heart to Thine, Lord, open up,
As the barren branches awaiting leaves:
All rendered unto Thee,
Greening glory all for Thee.

Touch my heart with the life of Thy embrace,
Touch my heart with Thy pure dew.
Break the dams in my hard eyes
As they behold wondrous gifts and love, only all from You.

Grant me realization of Thy love supreme,
And with it ignite a passion
That all I am, in work and dream
Might ever only be for You.

Thy love, O Lord, is the song of my lips;
For Thee, my Savior, the dance of my heart.
Root out of me all worldly desire,
And from Thy strong grasp let me not depart.

April’s radiance delights my soul,
But Thy love alone doth make me whole.