COME with rain, O loud Southwester!
Bring the singer, bring the nester;
Give the buried flower a dream;
Make the settled snow-bank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;
But whate'er you do to-night,
Bathe my window, make it flow,
Melt it as the ices go;
Melt the glass and leave the sticks
Like a hermit's crucifix;
Burst into my narrow stall;
Swing the picture on the wall;
Run the rattling pages o'er;
Scatter poems on the floor;
Turn the poet out of door.
Spring
Winter Rain ~ Christina Rossetti
Every valley drinks,
Every dell and hollow:
Where the kind rain sinks and sinks,
Green of Spring will follow.
Yet a lapse of weeks
Buds will burst their edges,
Strip their wool-coats, glue-coats, streaks,
In the woods and hedges;
Weave a bower of love
For birds to meet each other,
Weave a canopy above
Nest and egg and mother.
But for fattening rain
We should have no flowers,
Never a bud or leaf again
But for soaking showers;
Never a mated bird
In the rocking tree-tops,
Never indeed a flock or herd
To graze upon the lea-crops.
Lambs so woolly white,
Sheep the sun-bright leas on,
They could have no grass to bite
But for rain in season.
We should find no moss
In the shadiest places,
Find no waving meadow-grass
Pied with broad-eyed daisies;
But miles of barren sand,
With never a son or daughter,
Not a lily on the land,
Or lily on the water.
Today’s Quote on Adversity
“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome” – Anne Bradstreet
“The Stars Are Mansions Built by Nature’s Hand,” Poem by Wordsworth
The Stars Are Mansions Built by Nature’s Hand
By William Wordsworth
THE stars are mansions built by Nature’s hand,
And, haply, there the spirits of the blest
Dwell, clothed in radiance, their immortal vest;
Huge Ocean shows, within his yellow strand,
A habitation marvellously planned,
For life to occupy in love and rest;
All that we see–is dome, or vault, or nest,
Or fortress, reared at Nature’s sage command.
Glad thought for every season! but the Spring
Gave it while cares were weighing on my heart,
‘Mid song of birds, and insects murmuring;
And while the youthful year’s prolific art–
Of bud, leaf, blade, and flower–was fashioning
Abodes where self-disturbance hath no part.
Today’s Quote on Hope – Never Quit
Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons do not last. The spring rains will come. ~ Sarah Ban Breathnach
A Prayer in Spring ~ Poem by Robert Frost
A Prayer in Spring
OH, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.
A Prayer in Spring ~ Poem by Robert Frost
A Prayer in Spring
by Robert Frost
OH, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
To which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends he will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill.
The Instinct of Hope – Poem by John Clare
The Instinct Of Hope by John Clare
Is there another world for this frail dust
To warm with life and be itself again?
Something about me daily speaks there must,
And why should instinct nourish hopes in vain?
‘Tis nature’s prophesy that such will be,
And everything seems struggling to explain
The close sealed volume of its mystery.
Time wandering onward keeps its usual pace
As seeming anxious of eternity,
To meet that calm and find a resting place.
E’en the small violet feels a future power
And waits each year renewing blooms to bring,
And surely man is no inferior flower
To die unworthy of a second spring?
Ordinary Miracles – A Poem by Erica Jong
Ordinary Miracles by Erica Jong
Spring, rainbows,
ordinary miracles
about which
nothing new can be said.
The stars on a clear night
of a New England winter;
the soft air of the islands
along the old
Spanish Main;
pirate gold shining
in the palm;
the odor of roses
to the lover’s nose. . .
There is no more poetry
to be written
of these things.
The rainbow’s sudden revelation–
behold!
The cliché is true!
What can one say
but that?
So too
with you, little heart,
little miracle,
but you are
no less miracle.
I Can’t Stop From Singing
I have an outdoor herb garden. A real herb gardener will laugh at me. I have enough rosemary and basil to share with all the neighbors. They’re joined by three tomato plants, a blackberry bush, and a fig tree. No rhyme nor reason as to what I choose to plant. I added mint to the group this year. Why did I add mint? It smells nice. That’s the best reason I can give you. I have one large leafy green plant in the house, started by Babe years ago. She’s shared cuttings with daughters and neighbors. She loved the plant. Each time I water it, I know she’s nodding her loving approval from Heaven.
The leafy plant sits alone, no other plants with whom to commune. Everyone needs a friend. I thought another easy to care for green plant might make a good friend for the leafy plant company and brighten up the house as well. Today, I bought a mint plant. I repotted it and now it sits in the living room flirting with the leafy plant.
Plants and springtime are signs of life to me. It’s my favorite of the five seasons. Whoa, five seasons? In Texas, football is a righteous season of its own. Spring offers new life in flowers, birds singing, warmer temperatures. I’m like the mint plant I repotted today. I’ve had a tough stretch, it’s time for me to be repotted. Like the mint plant I repotted, my roots are balled into the soil, in my case memories.
My springtime awaits, as does yours. It’s time to open the windows to let hope flow in freely, unfettered to smother me. I can’t stop from smiling. I can’t stop from singing.
