A day like today

 

Borrowing Luci Shaw's words again, shared this evening by a fellow bibliophile. Thanks, Aunt Sheryll! I enjoy the warmth Shaw's words make, because despite the warm weather, we've had some rather cold days at our house.  The sun may have been shining outside, but it was not warming our spirits as it ought to have been.  The girls and I made promise to one another last night--we would start new today, like spring. Like sun warming the cold we've kept company with these last few weeks. More love. More patience. More peace. It was a more day.

Revival
by Luci Shaw, from What the Light Was Like

March. I am beginning
to anticipate a thaw. Early mornings
the earth, old unbeliever, is still crusted with frost
where the moles have nosed up their
cold castings, and the ground cover
in shadow under the cedars hasn't softened
for months, fogs layering their slow, complicated ice
around foliage and stem
night by night,

but as the light lengthens, preacher
of good news, evangelizing leaves and branches,
his large gestures beckon green
out of gray. Pinpricks of coral bursting
from the cotoneasters. A single bee
finding the white heather. Eager lemon-yellow
aconites glowing, low to the ground like
little uplifted faces. A crocus shooting up
a purple hand here, there, as I stand
on my doorstep, my own face drinking in heat
and light like a bud welcoming resurrection,
and my hand up, too, ready to sign on
for conversion.

--from What the Light Was Like