Spring Sundays

When I began this blog, I made the promise to myself that I would write every day in order to improve myself as a writer and to open up my writing to comment with the hope of creating a conversation about writing and poetry, in particular. In order to find original areas to write about, I have looked to my life, each and every day, to provide me with inspiration. In that regard, I have been somewhat successful because much of what I have written about came from moments in my day, or in my week, that have inspired me to write something new, or to review some of what I have already written and revise it. Or sometimes, just preface it with new insights into the topics I have already written about.

This week was Holy Week, and the inspiration I drew from was insights into a religion I have been studying off and on for a lifetime. I was born a Roman Catholic, attended Catholic grammar schools, a seminary and a Catholic high school, and a Catholic Jesuit college, in which I was obliged to take a minor in theology, Catholic theology. As Mr. Macawber, in David Copperfield, used to say "In short..." the last few posts have been meditations on the religious. However, this is not a religious blog, nor was it ever meant to be. My religion has been a part of my life experience. However, my values and my spirituality I have drawn from numerous spiritual sources, not all of them Catholic. I studied Hebrew in college and said Kaddish for a year when my uncle died. I have prayed with Lakota Indians each month for over a year, and have read the Koran as well as the The Bhagavad Gita. What I have learned from these experiences is what the Hindus have believed for a long time, that there are many roads up a mountain, but there is only one mountain and one peak. While I am most familiar with the preaching of charity, love from my own Christian faith, I have found those same values in other religions as well. I value these principles, and get angry when those that preach them fail to live up to them.

So, today is Easter. It is the celebration of Jesus' resurrection and our redemption. It falls at a time of year; spring, when nature experiences a beautiful rebirth as well. As Jesus rose from the grave, so nature awakens from a cold winter. The poem I have chosen for today is one that does not have an overt religious message, but is a celebration of this rebirth. Happy Easter! Happy Spring!

Spring Sundays
Christopher Bogart

Every Sunday morning
should be a morning in Spring.

Spring Sundays enlighten the sky
with a peaceable hue, peacock blue,
to backlight blossoms of pink pale,
linen white. They bud bright
from bare branch
to slow falling avalanche,
petaling satin snow
down
to the warming brown ground
below.

A gentle breeze
meanders through leaves of
pale green new,
rustles limbs
that brush to the touch
from just so much
as an errant whisper,
a gentle bar of
the wind’s wild tune to
rattle ‘round the memory,

Composing a song
we can hear all day long.