Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The Promise of Spring


This morning around seven
Latté and I strolled outside
so she could do what dogs need to do
after dreaming all night.

The sky had a layer of wispy clouds
sheer enough to suggest that the sky
was going to be seriously blue soon.

The birds were chirping up a storm.
Raindrops were still hanging onto the branches
of the coral bark maple, just to remind me
how much raindrops can look like diamond globes.

And it smelled earthy and fertile.
Full of potential.

The day lilies are beginning announce their whereabouts
with clumps of tender leaves that look like giant blades of grass.
The jonquils are sending up sentinels of green-ness
that will soon provide a backdrop for blossoms
in whites and yellows and pinks and peaches and oranges,
blossoms with such sweet faces that they always cheer me.


The camellias and azaleas aren't even close to popping
and dazzling everyone with their colorful displays


but they've begun to tease us with swelling buds, 
saying,
"It's not quite time. Wait a little longer."

And it reminded me that there's always a promise
of renewal, of growth, of bursting into flower
after a cold, dark season of life.

It reminded me that sometimes we don't know
what's about to be born into our lives
but we can feel something about to burst forth.

Sometimes all we can do with those inklings
is wait and create a welcoming, fertile space
 for what comes next.



12 comments:

Carrie said...

Whaat a beautiful post! Thanks for sharing your lovely reflections.

Bonnie, Original Art Studio said...

So beautifully expressed - and so true. I love the idea of creating a fertile space in which the as yet unborn can appear.

Kathryn Magendie said...

Oh, how beautiful!

I am so looking forward to spring's unfolding!

Stine in Ontario said...

Your spring is so far ahead of ours in Ontario. How nice to hear of the daylilies poking their leaves through the soil. :)

steven said...

meri look at your world!!! you lucky lucky woman!!!! thanks for this gorgeous post. steven

Kamana said...

how lovely!

rebecca said...

i am right there with you hovering on promise.
perfect timing, this renewal, this gift of Spring!!!

xoxoxox,
r

ELK said...

you are such a creative writer meri...each word carried me this day...and the blooms oh my!

Reya Mellicker said...

Reading about spring flowers is so surreal for me here in snow-locked Washington DC. But it will happen. It must! Spring will arrive here, too. It will, right? Yes? Say it will.

Thanks.

Jennifer said...

This post is wonderful. I can smell the earthy promise here as I sit. I'm jealous, though. Around here, we won't have those first blades and swelling buds for another 2 months!

Kaotic said...

For a moment there I had the pleasure of imagining spring, and forgot to mumble and moan about the heat this side of the world.

kendalee said...

I recognise this feeling well... and I love the way you've described it.