Of Words and Spring

April is the month of empty dreams
Half the days gone
waiting for words and spring
still frozen ground
and on the screen
a frigid page as white as snow.

Brown could be the color of hope
After the white
for all I know
green is too much to wish for
I’m contented to see a patch
of dry and withered brown.

The sun is a perpetual sign
that there’s still hope
But it’s no herald of the seasons
for its presence comforts all year long
warming my blank and barren state
as I await for words and spring.

But Easter is an apt reminder
that The Word had come
spoken clear to half-frozen ears
His body hung on a lifeless tree
Blood and water flowed
onto parched and dusty earth

So what if no words come to me
That dreaded writer’s block
reigning the winter of sterility
numbing senses,
snatching thoughts,
seizing any sign of spring.

It’s not about a post or a blog,
Or even buds and melting snow.
The Word had come
lived and loved among us,
broken, bled, died and rose,
melting frozen hearts to greet
a new Spring and eternal growth.

Poem and Photos by Arti of Ripple Effects, April 2011. All Rights Reserved.


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Arti

If she’s not birding by the Pond, Arti’s likely watching a movie, reading, or writing a review. Creator of Ripple Effects, bylines in Asian American Press, Vague Visages, Curator Magazine.

12 thoughts on “Of Words and Spring”

  1. Arti! This is a fabulous poem. Thanks for encouraging me in this Spring that never seems to come to look to the Word! Have a blessed Easter!

    .
    Ellen,

    A wonderful Easter to you and yours!

    Arti

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  2. Yes, I think I understand “waiting for words and spring” and “green too much to wish for.” It has been so long in coming (and now is suddenly here: pop!)
    Lovely poem, Arti. So much to ponder between the lines.

    .
    ds,

    This year is particularly unsettling I feel… and yet, Easter is at hand. May we all be blessed once again. Happy Easter to you and yours!

    Arti

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  3. Arti,

    A simple thanks seems paltry lying below your words — as it must have to those who stood under the cross, months and years later, when they came to better terms of the Reality of God’s gift in Word.

    The dryness of this particular Lenten season I’ll not soon forget, filled as it’s been with the scurry and hurry of activity. Yet even so, the season has not been without a few saving graces for me — like rocking a sleepy new granddaughter to nap in her nursery — a beautiful spring day — reading this lovely poem of yours– all reminders that something greater is afoot than what color of floor tile I mus select Today, as always, I”m grateful for the reminder.

    Janell

    .
    janell,

    What a lovely and eloquent comment, my deepest gratitude. I’m also happy for you … what a blessing it is, a new granddaughter to treasure! Thanks for stopping by and sharing with me your joy.

    Arti

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  4. The musicality of your poem is just beautiful. The lines read so well aloud, the rhymes just right, the cadence lovely with a touch of melancholy. I really love the tone and questioning here. The longing of the voice for spring, yet knowing there is everlasting spring to be found. Our spiritual sustenance, what we hold inside, can always be a solace, though sometimes it’s awfully hard to feel it. I’ve heard that even Mother Theresa did not feel the joy of her faith much of the time.

    Happy Easter, Arti.

    .
    Ruth,

    Thank you for your kind words. As I said in reply to another commenter, I’m no poet. But from reading blogs like yours, I’ve learned about poetry and come to appreciate the sound of words. Not only that, I’ve enjoyed your actual readings, your poetic voice. For some reason, the numbing effects are particularly acute these days. Again, thanks for the support.

    Arti

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  5. Lovely poem Arti! And so perfect for today because we got a couple inches of snow this morning.

    .
    Stefanie,

    Thanks. I thought we’re the only ones getting a late spring. Well, we’ve got company. 😉

    A.

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  6. He always comes when we need Him most. It’s been a dismal Spring in many ways, but there is hope. After the blood drenched ground, a patch of green appears.

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    Bellezza,

    Thanks for the thoughtful comment and encouragement!

    A.

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  7. What a lovely and thought-provoking poem, Arti — and such lovely language. I will remember forever, “Green is too much to wish for,” and being content with withered and brown… (only you said it far better!).

    I send you Easter greetings and good wishes for the holiday.

    Also, if you will send me your email address, I will reply to your comments specifically. I hate to do it in a comment on your wonderful posts, but I do have some ideas for the images you could download. Thanks so much for your wonderful comments. (I loved those bright rununculus also — I simply couldn’t resist!)

    .
    jeanie,

    Thanks for stopping by and leaving your comment. A blessed Easter to you and yours! And enjoy all the beautiful flowers you have… while I try to appreciate the brown, mostly free from snow now.

    Arti

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  8. Arti, as I read, I knew, I just knew this was your poem! It is intrinsically beautiful – there are so many lines I love and for some reason, especially: “green is too much to hope for…” and then “The Word had come and lived among us.” It speaks of so many things, so much that resonates and oh, how true, how true – “so what if the words don’t come.”

    This is a lovely Easter gift to all of us.
    Hugs, Oh

    Just…wonderful.

    .
    oh,

    Thank you so much for your kind words. Wishing you a blessed Easter and a wonderful family time together!

    Arti

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  9. Before I read this post, I’d already been sensing your longing for spring and your sense that its coming was taking just a little too long – metaphorically and otherwise. So you need to know that I’ve been thinking of you, and that my mention in my new post of “friends in Canada” actually is a friend (you) and that your ice became the balance to our fires.

    If I’ve been reminded of anything this Lenten season, it’s that sometimes we are granted the luxury of choosing a discipline for ourselves, and sometimes life imposes its own discipline. Giving up chocolate’s one thing. Giving up the life we’ve known and doing it with grace is something else entirely, as people around the world learn every day. Just now it’s Texas’ turn – and St. Louis, and North Carolina, and whomever else is next in line.

    So. Your Canadian prairie and my Texas prairie are sharing bare earth just now, though for different reasons. What an Easter! And what blessings, despite it all. I hope your day’s wonderful.

    .
    Linda,

    “… sometimes life imposes its own discipline” how true, not only with nature, but our circumstances as well. Thank you for thinking about me, our ice, for a counter perspective to your fire. I’ve appreciated Frost’s poem “Fire and Ice” which you wrote about on your current post, and I can hear from those short few lines a prophetic voice and a sardonic commentary of his world then, and still, if not more, relevant view of our world now.

    Well Easter 2011 has come and gone. It’s my wish that the Easter spirit will continue to fill the rest of our days of the year. Again, thanks for thinking about your Canadian friend 😉 .

    Arti

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    1. The best part is that, like Christmas, we get a season as well as a day. The half-price chocolate sales may be coming to an end, but there’s no end to the Easter promise!

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