Isn’t it a miracle?
Every year, out of the cold drab earth, somehow life springs forth. To me spring is one of God’s ineffable
mysteries, part of the great cycle of give and take. And every year, there it
is, carrying out the drama right before our eyes.
I grew up in the Midwest and lived in Minneapolis for 15
years before moving to New Jersey. Once
I moved to NJ, I became acutely aware of spring. Often in Minneapolis, the
winter would last and last until it seemed to turn a corner into summer. Here, spring begins slowly and lingers. And
as it unfolds, it dazzles.
I have come to watch for certain signs of spring. The
daffodils outside my front door, the burst of yellow forsythia, the eggs and
the tiny fluffball chicks in the eagle’s nest across the river, the wild
Virginia bluebells that color the riverbank for a short but glorious time each
spring.
Take a look at the eagle nest here... this is coming to you live! Best in daylight...
https://dukefarms.org/making-an-impact/eagle-cam/
Spring is a time of renewal, the time when we celebrate
Easter, the triumph over death. In
writing this post I remembered this poem by John Neihardt. When I was in college I was lucky enough to
hear him recite it:
April Theology
O to be breathing and hearing and
feeling and seeing!
O the ineffably glorious privilege of being!
All of the World’s lovely girlhood, unfleshed and made spirit,
Broods out in the sunlight this morning — I see it, I hear it!
O the ineffably glorious privilege of being!
All of the World’s lovely girlhood, unfleshed and made spirit,
Broods out in the sunlight this morning — I see it, I hear it!
So read me no text, O my Brothers,
and preach me no creeds;
I am busy beholding the glory of God in His deeds!
See! Everywhere buds coming out, blossoms flaming, bees humming!
Glad athletic growers up-reaching, things striving, becoming!
I am busy beholding the glory of God in His deeds!
See! Everywhere buds coming out, blossoms flaming, bees humming!
Glad athletic growers up-reaching, things striving, becoming!
O, I know in my heart, in the
sun-quickened, blossoming soul of me.
This something called self is a part, but the world is the whole of me!
I am one with these growers, these singers, these earnest becomers —
Co-heirs of the summer to be and past aeons of summers!
This something called self is a part, but the world is the whole of me!
I am one with these growers, these singers, these earnest becomers —
Co-heirs of the summer to be and past aeons of summers!
I kneel not nor grovel; no prayer
with my lips shall I fashion.
Close-knit in the fabric of things, fused with one common passion —
To go on and become something greater — we growers are one;
None more in the world than a bird and none less than the sun;
But all woven into the glad indivisible Scheme,
God fashioning out in the Finite a part of His dream!
Close-knit in the fabric of things, fused with one common passion —
To go on and become something greater — we growers are one;
None more in the world than a bird and none less than the sun;
But all woven into the glad indivisible Scheme,
God fashioning out in the Finite a part of His dream!
Out here where the world-love is
flowing, unfettered, unpriced,
I feel all the depth of the man-soul and girl-heart of Christ!
‘Mid this riot of pink and white flame in this miracle weather,
Soul to soul, merged in one, God and I dream the vast dream together.
We are one in the doing of things that are done and to be;
I am part of my God as a raindrop is part of the sea!
I feel all the depth of the man-soul and girl-heart of Christ!
‘Mid this riot of pink and white flame in this miracle weather,
Soul to soul, merged in one, God and I dream the vast dream together.
We are one in the doing of things that are done and to be;
I am part of my God as a raindrop is part of the sea!
What! House me my God?
Take me in where no blossoms are blowing?
Roof me in from the blue, wall me in from the green, and wonder of growing?
Parcel out what is already mine, like a vender of staples?
See! Yonder my God burns revealed in the sap-drunken maples!
Roof me in from the blue, wall me in from the green, and wonder of growing?
Parcel out what is already mine, like a vender of staples?
See! Yonder my God burns revealed in the sap-drunken maples!
Praise God for the mystery and beauty of spring, for the ridiculously
radiant blooms, for the exuberance and humor of life, and for the promise that
we, too, can be renewed.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.
Psalm 51:10
As I post this I also want to thank my friend, Margaret, for helping me navigate this maze that is called a blog. I would not have made it this far without her. Many many thanks!!!
Blessings for this glorious month of April.
Karen
I love the over-the-top joy and excitement of that poem. Spring is the perfect time for that! Love your photos, too. Thank you for your comment on my blog and your prayers!
ReplyDeleteLove your words about this season of renewal: "...spring begins slowly and lingers. And as it unfolds, it dazzles." Thanks for your reflection, the poem you shared, and congrats on the creation of your blog!
ReplyDeleteKaren, I think I have read your post three times now and have not completed my comments. I read it at night just before bedtime. It has served as a nighttime prayerful celebration. Today I will celebrate spring with you since you are so exuberant over the renewal time. Your photos are beautiful and so is the poem.
ReplyDelete