Author: Chrisnurse53

It has been awhile since I have been on here sharing the newest happenings in my life. Poems from the Secret Place is still making its debut in the greater ROC NY area as Pittsford Barnes & Noble Booksellers warmly welcomed me for a book signing event a couple weeks ago. You may find it in two locations there: Poetry and Local Authors. I also discovered that The Wondrous Story of the Little Shoe is now housed there in a different location, having been moved from Children’s Picture Books to Children’s Poetry & Classics. I am deeply grateful and honored.

So here we are in February, in what feels like the thick of a long, dark winter. The tug to hibernate is strong and the skies are often dull. Today however, I received a fresh invitation to stop and linger in a different kind of light.

I was driving, returning home from doing errands on a snowy afternoon. Approaching my driveway, I was grateful to have made it home safely. My thoughts, however, were interrupted as I was sensing a gentle draw to the cul-de-sac circle at the end of my street where the woodlands meet our property.

“Why don’t you pull over and stop?” came a gentle prompting. It was so peaceful, my heart instantly yielded. I have learned when those quiet tuggings of the soul come, I have much to gain if I respond. And so I did.

My car was in park. So was I. My schedule disappeared for a time and it was as if all of the clocks in the world stopped. It was just me, beholding the snow, in a solitude of quietude. Everything within me was at rest and being made new in those slow motion moments. I was seeing it, sensing it, experiencing it for the first time. Inside me, the little girl, teen, young woman, middle aged mother and wise woman of later years were all there, surrendering to the wonder and the peace.

Sensing the majestic but humble presence of nature’s and my mutual Creator was aweing and renewing. Both of us were being covered and nurtured with tender affection. And then the words started to flow from a place deep in my inner wells.

When poems announce themselves and ask to be written, one needs to be ready to partner with them. If ignored, they may not show themselves again. If you are fortunate, sometimes their memory lingers and you can prompt them back. I surrendered. What you are about to read came from those moments I was invited into. I likewise invite you now to stop and linger in these two penned attempts to share the wonderment of today. I also invite you to respond with a reply at the end. Have you shared any moments like these? I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you.

New Snow

White, untouched glory

being shed,

fresh from the sky

sets down

in gentle display

creating anew all things

as nature graciously receives

the tender gift

in the roaring, majestic quietude.

Tender Gratitude

Winter snows

come anew.

Virgin quietude

covering with kindness

nature’s soul

… and mine, in rest.

I watch… and yield,

in tender gratitude.

Photo by Marius Cuchez courtesy of “Moon Maiden”

So today, half of my wintered backyard is melting to grass and illuminated by the sleepy sun peeking over my neighboring woodlands. The other half remains covered by a blanket of friendly February snow. This white delight offers the perfect packing texture for my grandson to discover grandma molding a snowman’s head. Indeed I feel like a granddaughter again myself as we walk around the perimeter of our own wonderland, breathing in actual winter warmth of this friendly sun.

I notice on social media a beautiful visual message exclaiming that “Spring is only four weeks away.” It shows a simple “snow drop” flower pushing up through a snow covered woodland floor. The sun is showing through in the distance with the very substance of hope palpably experienced as this scene is viewed.

As marvelous as this is, I do not want to miss living in the present moment of this February wintered splendor. This day has its own glory to encounter. I fully embrace it and allow it to stir deep creativity within me.

Like the seasons of our lives, nature’s cycles have their own revelations and nuances to offer. It is wisdom to stop, listen, look, feel, trust. The time of winter’s hiddenness covers our souls if we let it. It provides re-creation, rest, refreshment, and new vision. It prepares us for the time of uncovering and manifestation soon to come in our lives.

Take time today to embrace the lingering time of winter wonder and you may find your own glory silently being restored. Live fully in these wintering moments that will never come again and you will find the innocence of childhood breathing through you once again.

Spring will come with its own glory. When it does, you will be ready.

Surprise moments appear sometimes where the natural world is juxtaposed with the supernatural in an encounter of life changing awe when the veil is drawn back. Clinging to the afterglow of such an event, one longs to capture in words even a mere sliver of the wonder that has taken the breath away …

As the deer moves

in the slow wonder of the green woods,

so do I move

in your lush Eden life.

A gentle stirring

in the garden

of my deep

responds to your love touch

in the secret place.

I weep and laugh.

I weep and laugh,… unabashedly,

as my soul searches for

what to do, where to land…

in midst of your vast marvel.

I am undone, in a glorious chaos

and created, once more.

Abba,

You have made me from stardust

that twinkled from your eyes.

You breathed yourself

into my unformed substance

and there was light.

There was life.

A dream came forth

that was me.

Heart of your heart, soul of your soul,

spirit of your spirit.

Oh Trinity of love,

You made me

…from You.

Make me… again.