-2.JPG)
~
I have seen green, so
vibrant.
Blossoms floating as
a dream on spring’s softest breeze.
I have caught
glimpses of a new season through pictures
The west has woken
and in the far off east,
But us
Here in the middle of
this Northern Land
Must wait
This is another of my
lessons in patients,
Not to hurry seasons
on.
The cold still clings,
yet I yearn for more,
To inhale
slowly the warmth wafting through the forest
I hush, listening for
the song birds’ return,
Eagerly I hope for sight of
a robin’s blazon crest.
Search for shoots,
Promises of a
thousand hues.
I feel like Noah,
Praying for solid
beneath a season of tossing.
I say it to my girls;
whisper it behind their veil of locks
The way Noah coed
it to a dove,
‘Bring
me hope’
Nothing came of my
rushed desire.
I watched mornings
rise over winter long into springs season.
I washed and stored
winter’s clothing the day I brought out sleeveless dresses of lights and whites
and my little ones ran barefooted over meadows full of life.
It all happened in a
moment
The familiar
Gloriously
Changed,
By the sweeping
steady of a God whose rhythm is
Goodness.
~
-4.JPG)
