Say how spring soars pink-winged
after the storm,
and moonlight whispers dreams
of if
we could or never did,
we urged the sky, believed the lies
of roses. The forest screams
under clouds of rust,
and we must boil water
again
there are no more gardens or birds–
here the red-breasted man flies
and then is still
beneath the blue, endless as time
recalling the diamond sparkle above
is long dead, yet seen and heard,
like the fiddle’s aching notes, a reminder
of sorrow and beauty,
when spring sang in pastel notes of joy
and raised green tendrils to embrace the world.
My poem from the magnetic poetry Oracle. Yesterday we had a beautiful spring day. Now it’s raining, and we’re expecting some snow and strong wind gusts. Right now a mockingbird is singing outside my window. And the war in Ukraine continues.🌻 There are many organizations trying to get assistance to Ukraine. Please help, if you can. Here is one list. Here is a link to a book of poetry put together by Annick Yerem available for a donation.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
Lovely and sad too. The last phrase is so poignant. Yes, we share the same words and images, the same tone of sadness and only a faint glimmer of hope.
Thank you. 💙
Yes, there is so much sadness right now, even as the flowers are starting to bloom.
I can understand why some people feel guilty that things are going on more or less as normal.
Yes, I do, too.
But at the same time, it doesn’t really help people in Ukraine or elsewhere.
No. Nothing will except anti tank missiles and drones.
😔
beautiful
Thank you, Beth.
Beautiful and sad and just lovely.
Thank you very much, Dale.
Beautiful and sad, yes. 😔
Speaking of another type of sad beauty. It is an icing sugar day over here… didn’t get the huge storm they predicted… then again, the weekend’s not over, is it?
Hopefully, you just have the icing sugar. We were supposed to go out today, but we’re trying to exchange tickets. I don’t think we’ll really get much snow, but I’m afraid the roads might get icy. Plus it’s just really nasty outside right now!
My skies are a light shade of grey. I was tempted to go out and run but I fear what looks wet could mean more… Think I’ll choose to stay safe.
Probably a good idea.
I think so
That Chagall could illustrate my words too. The messages are similar, but mine is much darker. I like that you and Jane separated nature from man in the hope that it will survive us. (K)
Yes, the Chagall would work for yours, too.
I hadn’t thought of it that way exactly–nature separated from humanity–but yes, you’re right.
The imagery in this poem is beautiful.
Thank you very much!
Such wise and resonant words came to you via the Oracle today!
That is very kind, Ingrid. Thank you so much!
So much melancholic beauty in this, Merril. Our weather is wild today with terrible winds. Sadly, the hard freeze predicted will kill everything that has bloomed or started to bud. 😦
Thank you, Jill.
Your spring is farther along, I think.
Probably daffodils and crocuses will be OK? I hope everything else around here, too. 😔
Achingly beautiful poem, Merril! Thank you for the donation links as well.
Thank you!
And you’re very welcome, Marie.
I was struck by the line, “[we] believed the lies of roses.” The coming of spring seems cruel this year, knowing how Ukraine is suffering.
Thank you, Liz.
Yes, you are so right. It does. I feel a bit guilty, but also feel like I should be grateful for it.
I expect I’ll feel grateful for spring when (if?) it decides to make an appearance in the Granite State.
I’m sure it will–and you will REALLY appreciate it then! 😀
Indeed I will! I just saw two quite plump robins hopping across the yard.
why do the robins seem bigger this spring? 😅
I don’t know. Those two I saw were a couple of big bruisers!
🤣🤣
The fiddle that fades…yes, the pastel colours now harsh…lovely notes too.
Thank you so much, Ain.
The Oracle often gives me the word “fiddle.” I like to think of it as a thought from my ancestors–like Chagall’s fiddler on the roof.
Beautifully written. Loved it
Spring is pleasant though it hurts when we think of the situations in Ukraine.
Thank you very much.
Yes, I agree.
Sad and beautiful, like the world. ♥
Thank you, Robin.
The feelings evoked by news of the war in Ukraine are very like my experience after my husband’s death at age 45. During his two-hour memorial service, I was struck by the realization that I would be forever changed by his loss. I left the service with soaring elation for his life of courage and accomplishment.
“yet seen and heard,
like the fiddle’s aching notes, a reminder
of sorrow and beauty.”
I love your poem, Merril. It is perfectly illustrated by the Chagall you have chosen. ❤
Thank you for your lovely, thoughtful , generous comment, Cheryl.
I’m so sorry for your loss, but how fortunate you were to have experienced that sense of elation in the midst of your sorrow.
You remind us that for some the joy of Spring is a long way off
Thank you, Derrick. Yes, all too true.
Beautiful! You paint the tender aches of the heart on the portal of spring. Such a beautiful poem in these days and hours…poetry can yet sing for us, and I believe the angels know the tune.
What a lovely comment, Linda! Thank you so much.
A sad yet beautiful piece, Merril💖💫
Thank you very much!💙
Le sniff! 💔
Yes. . .thank you.💔