I've been sitting by a window all day, watching the snow in my garden melt at an incredible pace and hearing birds chirp. There have been foxes and blackbirds and all kinds of water dripping. It feels like the first day of spring.
Straight after yesterday, the deepest winteryness I've seen in England for years.
It was quite fabulous. I got hardly any work done (plumber in the house meant I couldn't relax but at least I have hot showers now!) but I did get some hope. Oddly. The little pieces of snow, making magic happen one piece at a time. Altogether causing big change though insignificant alone. Lovely.
Also, due to the snow I had my evening plans canceled which meant that when quite out of the blue an old friend from Geneva was in the city for 'one night only' we could hang out. Barely spoke for ages and now he is moving to Exeter to be a marine! What a small world... we went to my friends's place for a big community meal and had some really cool chats. I do like last minute.
Whenever things like that happen I feel like God is doing something. Haven't a clue what but got to be something, all them pieces falling together like that. Could be quite invisible or abstracted but still, something...
I want to get on with my work as I am making snowflakes progresses and hoping it will all add up, so I shall be off. But what with yesterday feeling like the start of "something" cool and now the newness of spring, I have decided to post this poem I wrote called "New Beginnings". It was written for Michelle in Geneva as a YAGs auction item. Offered October 2007, theme picked March 2008 and I got it in the post just before Christmas.
New beginnings
So clear in the spring
All life gives birth, flowers from earth
Babies from… who knows where?
Stork or cabbage or something less fair
Each little-one angels watch over in care
New beginnings
The start of a story
Hope in the journey from Hades to glory
Oh what a joy to watch how He plays
Breath-baited angels run errands and praise
But none comprehend His mysterious ways
New beginnings
When a soul turns from darkness to light
As the son rises, the end of the night
Angels in heaven are celebrating
One little lost sheep and all that rejoicing
Oh what a start, rescued by a King
New beginnings
The daily expression
As we come to God with a heartfelt confession
Obedience blown on a whim or in fear
Fallen angels whispering in our ear
In forgiveness renewal, the slate wiped clear
New beginnings
Oh holy night
In cold winter climes we celebrate life
Humbly born into earthly frustration
While voices in heaven sing of salvation
The angels can see He's the Hope of the Nations
New beginnings
That old metaphor
Each telling a story of the Creator
As He converts his love into life
To make it spring up and echo the cry
Of thousands of angels high up in the sky
Rejoicing eternity that began in a word
In the beginning was God.
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4 comments:
(a) Who's that then?
(b) Snow is the best symbol we have in this country of grace, don't you think? It comes without asking, without our control, makes everything beautiful, gives us a day off we don't deserve and makes us play like little kids.
Snow also makes me a sappy Hallmark-card shadow of my usual coruscatingly witty self, as you can tell. But it also makes me not especially care. =o)
(a) You don't know him. A non-EBCGer from when I very first moved. Incidentally, the person who was asleep in my flat the time I came to church drunk and then we went to the Spaghetti Factory and I scared you... but you probably don't remember every conversation you've ever had with as much detail as I seem to.
(b) I think that's lovely. Covering everything with pure "coruscating" white, I quite agree. (Though not all of us got to make snowmen and play sadly, I was very much doing the Bartman and stayed inside :-S)
For me it also symbolises hope, with many small changes bringing a big transformation. And unity. And miracles. I like analogies, the more the better!
Note: You may be sappy but you are still ostentatious. :oP
Oh well that's all right then. As long as I'm still the unnecessary rococo fiddly-nobbly-bit-on-the-top-of-the-cathedral of blog commenting I'm happy.
Re: (a) Oh, yeah! No, yeah, I remember him. Well, we never met, but yeah. I remember the occasion because it was when I swore only ever to have the carbonara in future because I was jealous of yours. He's going to be a Marine ? Fair play to him; they're well hard. Would we get on? I want to say ooh send him to the pub with me but I think he might find me a bit... well, old and dull, really.
You're not old and dull! Well, maybe you are in England but you always managed to hide it well whenever I've met you...
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