Reflections of Spring--the Shortest Season

Before we go from snowy to sultry, as is often the case in Utah at this time of year, I decided to comment on the short season with short poetry--the nature-based 17-syllable challenge of haiku. Some purists say people who aren't Japanese shouldn't write this delicate form of verse, but being a cheeky American, I tend not to listen to those cultural directives.

This is my "spring" collection, although in my notes and files of Stuff, I'm sure I have a few more on other topics. Most of these were written way back when I was in college...as I recall we'd just unloaded all the animals off the ark the previous week...and these little snatches of impressions reflect who I was then, remembering that sometimes in those days it was more about meeting a challenge than making sense. I still think they're kind of charming. Hope you do, too.

I tripped and fell in

the pond last night because the

stars beguiled me so.

This warm night and that

full moon remind me that spring

is for stargazing.

Shall I wrap this warm

breeze, or would you prefer to

wear it home in style?

Shadows float as trees

yawn and nod with the wind. It’s

tired out tonight.

The sad newness of

spring brings wistful smiles of hope,

the soul’s camouflage.

Free is Good

A few weeks ago I reviewed a wonderful book, On Little Wings, by Regina Sirois. Beginning tonight, April 17, at midnight, she is offering free copies of the book. Follow this link to find out how to get it.

http://www.amazon.com/On-Little-Wings-ebook/dp/B006MITQRC/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top

Renewal

After puzzling for a couple of weeks over what spectacular thing I should put on my blog for the momentous 100th post, I realized how inconsequential that is, given the more important events that have transpired in our family.

Our long-awaited, much-loved and born-too-early Elijah Glen Williams graced our lives on March 26, lived long enough for his father to give him a name and a blessing, and then, trailing clouds of glory, returned home to that great God who gave him life. Those days before his birth until after his funeral were so full of so many miracles and tender mercies, compassion and kindnesses, that I cannot begin to count them. It is so appropriate that he was born just before Easter, reminding us of the One on whom we all depend for deliverance. With that in mind, I've decided to post a poem that is my belief about a day yet to come for all of us.

Resurrection Morning

by Pamela Williams

In the garden that morning Mary came,

solemn, to be where they had laid

Him. If she could not embrace Him again,

at least she could embrace His spirit

here, by His lifeless body.

With aloes and spices

she came to anoint Him,

her heart unable to sense the

newness of spring around her.

Seeing the tomb was empty,

she gave way to bitter sorrow.

How could she be alive without Him?

Then He was there, and thinking through tears

He was the gardener, she begged to know.

He spoke one word,

her name,

and she was

alive again.

On an unknown morning

in a spring yet to come,

in a garden of my choosing,

He will come

with aloes of healing,

and spices of pardon

to anoint me.

Mourning my absence,

longing to embrace me,

He will stand at my tomb

and call.

As surely as Mary knew His voice,

so will I.

He will speak one word,

my name,

and I will be

alive again,

and home.