Weary eyes, blossom-light
Re-greening Easter: day three
‘One name that I have not –
Though ‘tis an empty thingless name - forgot
Never can die because Spring after Spring
Some thrushes learn to say it as they sing.
—Edward Thomas, ‘The Word’
April
April, and weary eyes are being eased
by blossom-light. In the woods, the ground
is prepared for enchantments
of cowslip, and bluebell. Christ here
is a dandelion clock, is the vixen licking
the blood from her cub, is the high wind
bringing the long-wintered home.
Spring does not ask for your faith, only
your presence.
Here is the month of the green tide turning,
the stem and bud’s urgent sky-yearning,
the awakening earth proving
that resurrection is no fluke.
©Gideon Heugh, Naming God
A little note to say…
I won’t be putting The Green Chapel behind a paywall. I believe that poetry and ideas about God and other beautiful things should be as accessible to as many people as possible. Having said that, I am an independent artist, so I need all the support I can get. If you’re able to make a small contribution, I’d be incredibly grateful—it will help me to keep doing what I’m doing, and keep it free. Just click the button below. Thank you, GH.
I love this poem. It was one of my favourite’s in Naming God; it really captures the aliveness of spring where everything has an almost magical quality to it. And you only need to look up and pay attention to feel your soul rested and sated by it all. I think it might be time for another reread of Naming God!
Fabulous, just life flowing fabulous. I can almost breathe the words in and feel the fresh air in them!