thaw

Wet leaves and smell of earth,

My hands thaw just like the ground,

Spring makes them warm and eager to work

Eager, like the the sons I bore,

Inflating bike tires, clearing leaves, polishing mitts,

Checking on the lawn mower, scooter, boat

The legs of a little boy

Pedaling a bike, with confidence now

Pumping speed and power and freedom

Self-propelled exhilaration

Flying through mud puddles

Taking corners too fast

Bloody, muddy, red-faced pride

The fear mixed with joy on his face as we bike into the neighborhood

“Is this the farthest I’ve ever gone?

Does Marcus ever go this far? How old was Eldon when he did this?”

and the question behind the questions,

“Am I ok? Do I have what it takes mom? Do you see me? Am I making it?”

Oh yes, my son, I see, and yes, you are wonderful indeed.

Wonderful are His works, and I see the feminine one

Sitting on the swing with her book

She needs not affirmation, but independence

And great places to read,

And music that sings the constant noisy euphoria

That marks this stage of her life

Oh God, let this joy linger awhile

The sound of church bells and daddy’s leaf blower

Music both, the glory of God resounding

As the earth awakens

And His people tend the patch of ground He has given

Making temporary homes upon the dirt

From which they were taken,

To which they shall return.

Cold earth warms and life springs forth

The gospel, sown in sorrow, grows and lives

The fragrance wafting throughout the world

Of Jesus, sown and yet alive to serve and tend

Our Gardener, oh, Gardener tend us still!

Dirt to dirt, yet in your hands alone we live

Take this ground, this home, all that we are and have

Do with it what you will;

be our Father still.