Friday, April 13, 2012

Always Begin Again (a poem)

In the Abbey of the Arts, Soul of a Pilgrim, online Lenten art retreat I took (and am still finishing -- and yes, I know Lent is past), one of the most profound things the course leader Christine Valters Paintner wrote at the beginning was that no matter what happened, how long we strayed from the coursework -- because we all would, it is human -- Always Begin Again.

yesterday morning, rain fell and droplets clung to the branches of the pine tree outside my office window -- I must add that the temperature was predicted to climb -- up.

The weather had a different agenda and by mid-afternoon, after springlike rains all morning, snow covered the ground in a wet, heavy blanket.

I took a photo in the morning, wrote a poem and later took a photo in my back yard.

Go figure!  This is spring in Calgary. Wait five minutes and all will change -- you can never get bored with the weather here. It's always full of surprises.

Morning raindrops.

Afternoon snow flakes.


Maureen said...

And we're now heading back into the '80s.

Have a great weekend.

Jennifer Richardson said...

deeeeeep breath....letting it all go
always the beginning

Nikky44 said...

I loved the poem. I loved the image and comparison with the drop of water. Water is life, and at the same time it can just evaporate

Fi said...

Always Begin Again - you wrote that ??? Sensational, love it

Louise Gallagher said...

We're still chilly here Maureen and while most of the snow has left, some still clings to the ground!

80s huh? harumph! :)

Louise Gallagher said...

Thank you Jennifer, your poetic voice is as welcome as spring rains -- please send more! :)

Louise Gallagher said...

So true Nikky -- it is a reflection of life -- and it can evaporate -- thank you for that powerful analogy!

Louise Gallagher said...

Thank you Fi! (I did :))

Ruth said...

Your tender poem seems so appropriate for the letting go we do as spring and winter play their ins and outs, though I believe it is about something more "serious" than that. I suppose we experience death every day with opportunities to let go, and begin again.