Oh that I once past changing were,
Fast in thy Paradise, where no flower can wither!
Many a spring I shoot up fair,
Offering at heaven, growing and groaning thither;
Nor doth my flower
Want a spring shower,
My sins and I joining together.
And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing. Oh, my only light,
It cannot be
That I am he
On whom thy tempests fell all night.
These are thy wonders, Lord of love,
To make us see we are but flowers that glide;
Which when we once can find and prove,
Thou hast a garden for us where to bide;
Who would be more,
Swelling through store,
Forfeit their Paradise by their pride.
~George Herbert from “The Flower”
As they are meant to do,
the crocuses have melted back to earth
the winter snowdrops long gone,
the orchard tree blossoms have shed their petals to become
burgeoning cherries, pears and apples,
the daffodils have come and gone,
the tulips are falling apart in slow motion.
Spring in full swing
Exhaustion replaced by renewal
and fresh air now filled
with the sweetness of growth and fruitfulness.
Our fields grow lush and soft
with the sun warm on our horses’ withers.
It isn’t enough to celebrate the defeat of winter
by blooming where we are planted;
when we do fall apart, may we
find ourselves never withering again.
For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. For,
“All people are like grass,
and all their glory is like the flowers of the field;
the grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of the Lord endures forever.”
And this is the word that was preached to you.
1 Peter 1:23-25