Image by victormeldrewsyou
Every Friday afternoon
I have reason to drive into Boston and back.
Over many weeks, I've watched the trees along my way,
their green leaves turning,
painting the road's shoulders with a last gasp of color and beauty,
then taking a bow in a coppery brown farewell...
One night since last Friday
-I'm sure it was under the cover of darkness-
the trees quietly conspired and, all together,
shook off their faded frocks.
Now they stand bare
against the chill of November's afternoon skies.
They stand still without a hint of a shiver,
their branched arms stretching strong,
braced for the weight of snow and ice,
their December sparkle, their winter's armor...
Would that I were bold enough
to stand so naked before my God,
arms stretching strong
to reach the warmth of winter's love...
And I prayed, as I drove, for a tree's trust
that spring will come again and melt away the frost
to dew and life and leaves, green again...
-ConcordPastor
What a beautiful piece of poetry. I too have often found more beauty in the starkness of winter than in the full flowering of summer's magnificence. It always makes me think of life itself. Old age seems to strip us bare like the trees with nothing left by the branches. Your passage offers hope that if we are bold enough to stretch our arms up to God we will find the warmth of his love in this winter and can look forward to finding spring with him again. This wonderful passage was a perfect way to start my day! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, Concord Pastor!
ReplyDeleteIsn't it wonderful to know life is pulsating inside those bare trees. Spring *is* coming!