Reflections on a Sunday Spring Evening

So now as winter’s brittle armor cracks
And softer warmth revives the greening fields,
Restoring all about me to the bright
Abounding vibrancy of mountain spring,
I see you, God, again renewing life—
Your touch turns frozen gloom to beauty fresh.
My Lord, bestow upon me, too, your calming strength
To leave behind a tired, weary past
And, like your gift of spring so gently given,
Renew my heart and make of me your son,
New-worthy, loving, eager to forgive,
That you and spring may ever dwell in me.

A Mother’s Reflection

The dawn had just begun when first
He breathed the breath of life. His infant cry
Rose up to greet the morning star, as
Sunrise colored the eastern sky.
Then warm, and rubbed with oil, he slept.
His entrance to the world had left him
Weary, ready for a quiet, dreamless
Sleep. Dreaming is for Mothers—
Especially the day a newborn finds it way
From God into the world, and to her arms.
What will he be—eventually—this small bit
Of humanity, so like his dad in miniature—
A wisp of soft dark hair above his tiny face?
God colored him adorable, and that he was—
Alert and tender wise—not only as a babe
But through the years of childhood, youth,
And now a man with peaceful, loving heart.
I dreamed of many things when he was born.
And of them all the best came true.

[photo] Photography by Michael M. McConkie

For Kerri Lynn

She bounced
Along with saucy
Smile and gay brown eyes—
And everything went sunny where
She’d been.
An elf,
A Fairy-child,
A sprite—She twinkled, danced,
And blithely scattered stardust on
Our path.
For six
Short years she loved
This life—It loved her back,
Then passed her on, unblemished, Home