The Power of Love
I felt it last night.
Easter loosened close-packed earth,
freed love to shine through.
Ice melted. Water
flowed from choked up reservoirs.
Bees dispensed pollen.
Cardinals flew by.
Their wings swept away dead leaves,
caressed blooming buds.
It took me so long
to excavate ancient wounds,
but love is patient.
It trusts the seasons.
Like spring, love awaits its turn
then waltzes right in.
How simple it is
to say goodbye to winter
and hello to life.
With gratitude to Eva Rider from whose Facebook page I borrowed this image.
Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. E-book versions are also at Kobo, Barnes And Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications.com. Her new book, The Soul’s Twins, is available at Schiffer, Red Feather Mind, Body, Spirit and wherever books are sold. Subscribe to her newsletter at www.jeanbenedictraffa.com.
Beautifully done. How simple it is, with the patience love is, to embrace the unfolding of the cycle, the renewal. A fine way for me to awaken on this sunny but cold April morn.
Thank you, my poet friend. I’m honored. Poetry is so daunting. This came fairly easy though. We had such a lovely Easter Sunday dinner with our children and grandchildren, all of us well and safely inoculated. My heart was so full that I awoke in the middle of the night and jotted down a few lines. The rest came the next day. Your recent haiku challenge on FB may have inspired me. That was fun. Spring blessings.
Oh, I echo Brian’s sentiments entirely! What a wonderful way it is to wake up on this bright, crisp spring morning and embrace the power and beauty of love! Thank you so much Jeanie for sharing your words and warmth. I love, love, love that you’ve shared your poetry and (hopefully!) will look forward to reading more in due course! Just beautiful, with so many great lines, most especially the last three! Love and light, Deborah.
Thank you for your kind words and encouragement, my other poet friend from Great Britain. You both inspire and honor me, an apprentice in this art. I’d like there to be more poems here once in a while but I can’t promise it. You and Brian have set a high bar. But who knows what love may bring….. Spring blessings.
For Brian and Deborah and everyone who loves poetry. Look what I just found from Michael Tscheu on a Facebook group I follow: April is poetry month!! Here’s what he wrote:
April is Poetry Month:
For the poets…
Feeling the moments we are in…
Wondering about poets. What responsibilities we may have in these times. Knowing that the the reasons we write poems is likely equal to the number of poets.
What I love deeply about poetry is the paradox it holds: the voice of a single human being, often a vulnerable voice. Yet capable of finding its way into many hearts.
Thank God life is never meant to make sense or be understood!
In these times we are experiencing what feels, what seems like, separation, isolation.
As I am writing, a wren is building a nest in my yard, two doves and a squirrel are searching my grass for seeds and a flower, for which I have no name is about to bloom.
That which holds us is not separate, is not isolated from us.
So curious that while we are “isolating” because of the virus, it is powerfully teaching us that we are an “us”. Our lives do matter in each other’s lives.
Poetry is the voice of belonging.
We live in the “house of belonging” *** even when it is unseen, unfelt. A house only entered through the door of vulnerability… what binds us together… what makes us human.
We need to give voice to our “belonging”, even when our words bleed.
Even if the words we speak go unheard.
Even if we only hear echos in our hearts.
Silence is not an option…
*** The House of Belonging is both a poem and book by David Whyte.
As I’m not on FB, thank you so much Jeanie for sharing Michael’s post! I love what he writes about poetry, especially the part where he says “we live in the house of belonging” this so true! His words have put poetry on a skewer and my heart, consequently, has burst into flames! Oh, those poets, what are they like?! x
Yes, “Poetry is the voice of belonging,” and “We live in the house of belonging” struck me too. It’s taking a while for me to wrap my mind around the levels of meaning in that phrase. I never thought of poetry that way before.
Thank you Jeanie for sharing your heartfelt words, every line pulsing with life and love. It’s a treasure. Here, the darkening skies come earlier in the evenings and light comes later in the mornings as the cycle continues – love, Susan
Each season has its own gifts and charms, doesn’t it, Susan? I used to love fall best, but now I don’t know which I love more: spring or fall. This year I’m so much more aware than ever before of the hope and joy that spring brings. Maybe that’s because the virus is starting to wane here and I’m getting to be with my family again. This afternoon I drove my granddaughter to the stable where she keeps her horse for only the second time in over a year and loved every minute of it. Being with her, being with the horses, the smells, the breezes. A welcome sensory feast that my computer and writing brain never quite manage to replace! 🙂 Love, Jeanie
Beautiful words of spring, Jeanie, as the world here turns from last week’s snow to this week’s Crocuses, early Daffodils, and bird songs. You captured beautiful simple images to create a mood of loosening, melting, flying, flowing, waltzing. Your excursion with your granddaughter sounds wonderful, especially remembering your own love of horses. Be well and be safe.
Thank you, Elaine. I hadn’t really thought about creating that mood, although I was aware of wanting a lot of imagery. I guess the mood came intuitively. I have much to learn about writing poetry. Your world of flowers and bird songs sounds so beautiful and soothing.
Jeanie…so beautiful! Thank you for the thoughts and feelings and images and possibilities expressed…as always. Love to you…Dale
Dale, you are so kind. Thank you. This was a stretch for me. I’m glad you enjoyed the change of pace. I’m trying harder to tickle readers’ imagination in my writing these days, but after years of formal academic writing, writing from the soul doesn’t come naturally yet. Love to you too, sweet friend. Jeanie