A Poem in March

I would now like to begin by pretending I have been blogging all this time, and not in fact, skipped months of goings on. Let us jump right in, shall we?


Today was beautiful. The sun shone bright and warm, unexpected and welcome after a disappointingly wet forecast. Daffodils and tulips donned exuberantly frilly hats and bobbed cheerfully in the breeze. Their ruffled skirts showcased every shade of happy; yellows, oranges and pinks all danced together in a beautiful bouquet. It was a morning on which I breathed deep of their simple fragrance, and felt suddenly, that it was a privilege and delight to be alive. I wish on days like these, for greater capacity to absorb all of the fresh, to steep myself deeper in the sunlight, to entangle my soul with the lacy roots of growing things. Spring has come to Memphis, and oh, it is welcome.

These soft petals declared the glory of their Creator to me today. To quote a fellow romantic:

¨Oh its the most beautiful poem I ever saw... The lines and verses are only the outward garments of the poem... the real poem is the soul within them... that beautiful bit is the soul of an unwritten poem. It is not everyday one sees a soul, even of a poem." -Anne Shirley

I saw poetry in the way these flowers blushed and beamed. The texture in their ruffled edges thrilled me, and you can almost see brush strokes in their carefully detailed stems, leaves and petals. They showed me Jesus.