Well,
ok they said with biblical promise
That
spring would arrive at any moment.
They
said authoritatively “it will soon be here.”
They
said their prophecies would be realized:
The
hibernating beasts would slowly wake;
Robins
clearing their throats in preparation to fulfill their purpose; and ,
The
buds magically appearing on grayed branches while buried bulbs would begin to
reach out in resurrection.
The
proclamation on the cathedral read,
“The
end and the beginning is near!”
They
would write and preach about the
forthcoming immersion
Into
that ocean of merciful warmth and illumination.
Endless
rhymes, mind wandering melodies and echoes of
Midnight
choral chants spiritually satiated seeking souls with anticipation for sacramental
satisfaction.
Yet,
in the nave of the sanctuary
El
Nino Demonic Naysayers whispered rhythmically
“No
peace. No spring. No Peace. No Spring”
Were
they right? Who was wrong?
Was
all of this noise just half-hearted speculation?
Would
winter’s curtain be torn wide open ever again?
Meandering
pilgrims scrambled here and there
consumed
with conjectures about the prognostications, beating their chests desiring
absolution and redemption
for
their faltering faith and lack of trust.
The
warmed up Easter white vestment adorned players
Prayed
anxiously waiting to take the field.
Frail
fallen branches from the bitter wind,
Remnants
of the dark frozen gray sky,
Lay
prostrate in penitential submissiveness
To
the ultimate sacred grace.
Does
it matter if meteorological prophets are pseudo-psychic?
Does
it matter that the exiled deportees got lost
On
the way to the promised land ?
Those
once lost birds of paradise could be heard singing
to anyone
who stopped to listen
“ the
great love is never really absent -
- just
open up your heart .”
Wild Geese - Mary Oliver
(Can't see vide? Click on link below )
Today
If ever there were a spring day so
perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent
breeze
that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house
and unlatch the door to the
canary's cage,
indeed, rip the little door from
its jamb,
a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with
peonies
seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking
a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,
releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage
so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting
into this larger dome of blue and
white,
well, today is just that kind of
day.
JF Sobecki LLC Copyright all Rights reserved 2016
