Monday, 22 February 2010

Spring lies waiting

I don't know what it is about winter but it brings out the poet in me so here is another offering

Spring lies waiting

The blanket lies white upon the ground
So deep, muffling sound
Hard to believe 
What lies beneath
Colour locked in bulbs 
So deep
Waiting in their earthly dreams
For warmth to seep from above
To awaken and stretch out
Their dresses of velvet cloth
Refreshing drab senses
Dulled by long winter months
Lethargy peels off
Hope arises
Winter will lose its grip once more


danast said...

Love your poem Joanna. It made me feel quite emotional.

Joanna said...

Glad you liked it Danast

Diane said...

loved the poem and think you are spoiled that there is that time of growth going on under the snow that maybe we miss in England where we see the bulbs straight out the ground.
Perhaps we need to look at whether we want to see personal growth like that too?

Joanna said...

When I lived in England in the Derbyshire hills I used to go out for a walk for an hour a day, just me and God. It was then that I began to appreciate the seasons, seeing the ploughed fields but knowing that once the heat seeped in the green shoots would start to appear. What appeared dead was not really dead but hibernating. I really missed the seasons in Colorado, Spring was a two week rush and Autumn the same and it was if they were in a hurry to get on with the major seasons and didn't have time to savour the changes.

If there has been one thing Ian and I have learnt over the last 7 years it is to wait, there are times to push through but I am not sure God is in as much of a hurry as we are at times. Long slow growth builds mighty oaks.