Skip to main content

FIRST DAFFODIL OF SPRING

 

FIRST DAFFODIL BUD OF SPRING
Midst broken twigs and dried up grass
The browns and grays of winter
A ray of sunshine caught my eye
For right there in the center
A sign of spring broke through the ground
All covered by seasonal clutter
A single bud of daffodil
As bright as fresh churned butter
Poking its head above the rest
Of earth’s decaying matter
Surveying its environment
Of torn leaves and tatter
As if to say it may be a while
But my promise to you today
Is simply this, the time will come
When clouds no longer gray
Will let the sunshine come right through
Dispelling fears and doubt
And faith that spring is coming
That’s what hope is all about.
Written by Joan Rowden Hart on 01.24.13 at 10:15 am



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Passion

  “Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age”..  (James Joyce) I’ve often been accused of being too passionate, of caring too much about certain things.  But I believe that  passion, also defined as fervor or zeal, is  one of the essential core values of human life, along with the Apostle Paul’s Biblical list of the virtues of faith, hope and charity.  Passionate people have strong opinions and usually articulate them very well.  We are also perfectionists, and we don’t handle incompetence in the public arena very well, all of which tend to preclude us from being the most popular person in the room.  I long ago accepted the fact that I won’t have the largest funeral in Lebanon, nor will my obituary make the front page. But not everyone seems to care that much about anything other than their own lives.  T.S. Eliot once said, “It is obvious that we can no more explain pas...

A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT

  Years ago, there was a movie called “A River Runs Through It” based on a novel by Norman Maclean. I didn’t see the movie, but the title has been running through my head for several days now. The Rio Grande is just one of hundreds of rivers that runs through this great North American continent. More than 60,000 illegal immigrants have crossed the Mexican border in the past nine months, many of them using the Rio Grande as their point of entrance. Louie Gohmert, a Texas Congressman describes his recent trip to the river during the pre-dawn hours. He saw pregnant women and those with nursing infants and small children, and many teenagers, 72 people in all that morning and a third of them were children unaccompanied by adults. Border agents pulled on blue latex gloves when they saw them arriving. One told the Congressman that many of them have scabies, lice and even more serious infectious diseases that probably won’t be noticed until after they have traveled with others on buse...

LIQUID PRAYERS

I'm often asked why Tears fall from my eyes When my prayers ascend to the throne; It's so easy for me To shed tears, don't you see; That's the way I make my needs known. For the tears that I shed In the prayers that I've said Have all been kept by Him In a bottle rare; He has placed them there He has never forgotten them. For every tear Is a liquid prayer That waters the seed that we sow. Through the good times and bad Whether happy or sad The tears help our prayers to flow. Feel a tug in your heart? Then let the tears start When you take to God all your cares. He knows what you need; He hears when you plead; For tears are just liquid prayers. Written by Joan Rowden Hart 12.17.01, based on Psalm 56:8, “Thou tellest my wanderings; put thou my tears into thy bottle; are they not in thy book?”   This poem was inspired by my dear friend, Betty Shanks of Farmington , Mo , who coined the phrase “liquid prayers” after I had preached a sermon ...