Spring's Messenger
Today I saw, with glad surprise,
a crocus pushing through the ground.
Soon, wherever I turn my eyes,
I'll see myriad life abound
in every garden, field, and tree.
So all snow melt and ice now thaw;
this glimpse is all it took for me
to wish for winter to withdraw.
Another Spring
Another spring has come around,
it's time to bring the spades and hoes
to the garden and break the ground,
break the ground into even rows
and breathe the rich, primeval smells
of sod upturned to air and sun.
It's time to know the truth earth tells:
the soul of soil and man are one.
Winter to Spring
The Big Dipper, high in the northeast sky,
lets us know, in just a few more days, spring
will arrive. We listen to songbirds sing
their sweet, twittering warble from on high,
confirming what the stars promise is true:
winter is finally about to end.
Oh, spring may play her game of "Let's pretend!"
and send us snow, perhaps an inch or two,
to cover some emerging green with white
and put on hold some plans for a garden.
That's a prank easy enough to pardon,
an hour of sun puts the matter right,
and once more we start to think spring (unless
there's a blizzard) would not dare regress.
As Spring Returns
As spring returns to the earth,
so does God come to the soul.
For in this time of the birth
of tender shoot, lamb and foal,
of ice melting on the pond
in the warmth of vernal sun,
of music heard from beyond
the meadow where rabbits run:
the song of sparrow and wren
rejoicing in greater light,
and of every field and fen
proclaiming green to our sight,
we know the various ways
God comes to our hearts and days.
David James Madden