Often around this time of year, we find ourselves just wanting winter to be over. We long to see some signs of spring - to see our world alive and growing again. We also know that there are times in our lives when, regardless of the changing seasons in the world around us, an emotional and spiritual winter seems to descend upon our souls. And just as we cannot force the ice and snow and cold in our environment to relent, neither can we just will away the winter within.
I'd like to share a gift that came to me during such a time in my life, over 25 years ago. I refer to it as a "gift" because, even though it was my pencil that wrote it down, this poem seemed to come from somewhere (or Someone) beyond me, lending strength to my struggling spirit.
it seemed for a while
as though everything had died,
(except perhaps the fear).
insects, flowers, grass long past,
lay still in tombs of ice,
resurrection thoughts impotent and forgotten.
nothing moved.
nothing could move,
so wrapt in cold's dark dread.
nothing breathed,
only sharp winter wind that
convulsed a single barren tree,
convulsing too a tiny sparrow
that clung unnoticed to its naked bough.
unrelenting, trembling, the tiny sparrow clung,
shattering the frozen stillness
with a chirping plea
for spring.
