Awaiting Spring

The faith of a flower bulb,
allowing itself to be entombed
in the earth,
awaiting spring.

Believing that from nothing
could spring something,
from the darkness,
new life.

Give me that faith
in Your ability
to bring forth greatness
from a tiny seed,
buried in the darkness
of weakness and failure,
of unkept resolutions
and missed opportunities.

Help me begin again–
a new spring–
and as the sunlight
pours down upon me,
give me the courage to grow!

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Spring Forward

Spring forward–

move the clocks!

Let the daylight stretch into the afternoon

like a sleepy cat

awakening.

 

But this spring feels late–

the snow lingers in patches,

though sobbed on by rain,

and grimly threatens to return

in mid-March flurries.

 

One wishes it was weather

more suited for blizzards

from Dairy Queen

but the chill damp air

crushes dreams of summer.

 

Undaunted we spring forward,

planning spring in our dining room–

filling every ledge and shelftop

with seedlings and sprouting things

baby bok choi and alyssum flowers

peas and beans with their bright green leaves–

tiny banners raised in triumph against the grey.

 

We are even sprouting an avocado —

its plump brown pit skewered by toothpicks

and half-submerged in water.

Every day I look with delight at the long white root

shooting out like a streak of hope

seeking life.

 

Spring forward

and if spring won’t leap with you,

give it a push!

 

We woke up on Mars…

  
This summer morning we woke to the strangest golden light emanating through the blinds…thick light and far brighter than it should have been for 8 am, but not in a usually perky morning sunshine kind of way…but heavy and strange.

We went outside to take a look. The clouds were oddly dark for the brightness of the air, and looked almost dirty, like a white blanket a kid had spilled juice on and then dragged through the sandbox. But the strangest of all was the sun. It was a perfectly round pink ball, and we could look right at it without hurting our eyes. My iPad couldn’t capture the huge, glowing pink eye in the sky…an apparition form Mordor!

“Maybe the moon stole all the light from the sun,” suggested my 5 year old. But when I looked up solar and lunar exclipses, nothing was reported. Maybe forest fires? Or maybe we really just woke up on Mars…and have become aliens in our sleep!

Quotes from the Peanut Gallery #2

Multitasking:

Me: Can you cut this paper dolly out for your sister?

6 yr old: Sure. I have time to do lots of things, but not time to do lots of things at the same time.


Weather Report:

4yr old: “Mommy the clouds turned purple. The clouds turned purple because they are angry that it’s not raining anymore.”


Royal Duties:

While training her 4 year old sister to be a polite princess, my 7 year old explained why the 3 year old couldn’t join in and be a queen.

“Because queens are really old, and it’s boring…actually it’s a lot of work. You have rule a village, and to sit on a bench all day and read newspapers…and eat chocolate all day until you get sick.”

“What if it tasted like coffee chocolate?” piped up the 4 year old. “That would be awful.”

“I wanna be a princess and dance!” moaned the distraught toddler.

Mouth Mumbles:

3 year old: “He has an ice cream lipstash…”