Spring Comes as a Prayer
Spring comes as a prayer, not from people to their God,
But from the Creator to these creatures of a long, drawn-out experiment.
Maybe this year, they will pay attention.
Maybe this year, they will notice the first tinge of pale green in the trees,
Touched by the golden fingers of early morning sunshine.
Maybe this year, they will go to bed early, with the bedroom window open,
So they can lie under winter's warm blankets
And listen to the first evening of peepers.
Maybe this year, they will kneel, yes, actually kneel, on the damp earth
To look more closely at the first white trillium,
A slim ballerina on pointe where dirty snow recently lay.
This is the prayer that we are offered:
A prayer that keeps asking, Don't you see? Don't you see?
The time may come when the bouquet is no longer offered.
Spurned again and again,
Even the most fervent prayer may finally come to a halt
For lack of anyone listening.
I remember the morning in spring
When I was driving to work with the car window open,
Mulling over a lecture on English grammar
When I heard, in the sky above me, the jubilant honking of geese.
I was late, had no time to pull to the side of the road and get out of the car
To watch them sailing north in their huge blue sky,
Some of them with a cargo of nearly ready eggs.
I kept driving to work, wary of traffic, my eye on the clock,
As the jubilant honking became faint, and vanished.
Aching with loneliness, I finished the coffee in a green plastic traveler cup.
Spring comes as a prayer from heaven to Earth,
Asking, briefly, that the divine gift be gratefully accepted.
John Slade
Woodgate International
http://www.woodgateintl.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment