Ephemeral
We wait all winter for signs of life
skunk cabbage poking through the muck
the eastern phoebe’s song
the red maple’s crimson cloud
The early garden morphs
from bare ground and fallen leaves
to bleeding hearts and creeping phlox
golden ragwort’s golden glow
Jacob’s ladders’ soft blues
We wait so long for what is too soon over
Fleeting beauty we cannot keep
Is this not grace?
The waiting must be part of the blessing... I have to believe that.
So beautiful, Ann! Thanks for sharing the Kingdom snapshot you’ve created.