Hello, friends!
It’s become tradition for me to feel a sudden rush of poetic inspiration in the early days of spring and then churn out something bursting with hope, enthusiasm, and seasonal nature imagery.
This is what happened when I succumbed to the poetry bug this spring.
the hope that froze over in my heart this winter –
stagnant, stubborn, tenacious –
has thrilled to the breath of spring
and gurgles wild,
dripping from my fingertips, transforming me
to a Midas of sorts,
for all that I touch becomes
gilded in gold even as it lies dead…
for I know the Man whose voice reversed decay,
whose very breath filled the lungs Death claimed,
whose heart will never cease now to beat
for the ones whose fingertips have grazed
His hem and now lie panting,
a s t o n i s h e d
in the wake of His mercy.
staggering wonder of wonders…
He has not passed me by.
the power that pours out of Him
has not staunched this years-long flow of grief,
but it has sweetened the cup I must drink
to the dregs, for –
because of Him – His Father’s cup of wrath
shall never touch my lips.
(oh, glory!)
it is joy with Him now
to share in His sufferings:
to weep with Him for His church,
to ache with Him for His kingdom,
to pray with Him for His Father’s will
to outpace the snowmelt to the ends of the earth.
He is good,
He is good,
He is good…
He has not passed us by.
Oh, what a gift it is to feel the world coming alive again and to be reminded that we have come alive again in Christ…and will come alive again in Him. What a gift it is to walk with Him.
Stay the course!
❤ Laurel
P.S. I thought it would be worth noting that if you love poetry with both spring-flavored nature imagery and a Lent+Easter bent, you can find that in Beauty Even Here.✨
Laurel Luehmann 