spring

#100Poems: Number Seven

Distraction kept me
from noticing the scene outside my window —

Green.
Everything green with new life.

It’s hard to imagine
a world that just
yesterday
sagged under dead leaves
and the colorless pall
of a long winter.

And now —

life.

Cherry Blossoms: Ephemeral Signs of Spring

When the cherry blossoms bloom around these parts, we have to run out and enjoy them immediately. They just suddenly bloom, everything is pink and beautiful, and the winds of spring invariably blow and they’re gone. Like pink snow, the petals fall and swirl around before disappearing.

It’s an ephemeral burst of life that comes every year.

My mother often calls these windy days in spring los vientos de cuaresma, the winds of Lent. I never gave it much thought since Lent and spring are, while not the same thing, certainly occurring at the same time.

And then I gave some deeper thought to the meaning of the wind blowing so insistently during Lent. What a fantastic presence of the Holy Spirit stirring up every nook and cranny in anticipation of Holy Week.

Fresher than Fresh: A New Tulip

tulip

This week’s Daily Post photo challenge, fresh, comes just in time for spring. There’s a little bit of rain falling, just enough to get things a little misted, and it changes everything. The dull dustiness of early spring — there’s no real color yet — covers everything in pollen. A little rain freshens things up again. The grass is just starting to wake up, and while there are lots and lots of flowers blooming, leaves and leftover wintry shrubs still dot the landscape.

dandelionThe scent of spring, wet and fresh, fills my nostrils and transports me back to my childhood. The honeysuckle isn’t in bloom yet, but oh boy — soon. Soon!

I admit that my tastes, and my wallet, have matured a little and I can indulge myself in the beauty of tulips, but I have a confession to make ….

This is my favorite sign of spring.

finally, spring

friday 3It was such a lovely day today that I headed out to the Monastery of the Holy Spirit for the afternoon.

I intended to sit in the cool half light of the church, but when I parked I was overcome with the desire to sit in the sun. The field was inviting, and the birds were all singing at once.

There was a blanket in the back seat, a leftover from a harsher than normal winter, so I made myself a little island in the middle of a green ocean. The birds sang to me and the sun finally got past the ever-present chill and warmed me. All the way through.

I read and wrote, and I think maybe I dozed a little in the sun, too. And then the bells called us all to prayer. I couldn’t resist the pull. Look, the gate was open for me.

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