“Spring” by Valerie J. Shave

I do not like the fall,

Dry brown leaves, wrinkled and decaying;

Touch of death over all,

With everything green around me dying:

Vibrant colors fading,

O give me the resurrection of spring;

God in all His glory,

The sweet melody that birds love to sing.

Branches like dry bones,

Touched after a frigid, winter’s rest;

Shrouded in green cones:

Tiny, green velvet buds at the end, nest

On dry, brittle bones;

Shimmer like green, painted fingernails.

And they will blossom forth,

Like a tree planted by the water,

Sheltered from the north;

Sunshine and peace, in the fresh, keen air.

Jesus cursed the tree that bore no fruit,

Blessed the tree that bore -

For even a frail, tiny green shoot,

Its gay, fruitful clothing wore.

Dry branches lopped off for the fire,

Unfruitful barren tree!

In the spring and resurrection power;

Dry bones, alive should be -

Like budding trees ready to flower.

How rewarding to see,

Good men and women who fruitful be;

As a resurrected tree!

Valerie Shave lives in beautiful British Columbia (Paradise) in a small town near Duncan, B.C., called Lake Cowichan. She’s a prolific writer of poems stories and plays. Her poem “Tsunami’ was on Oprah’s blog. She’s currently working on a book on China where she lived and taught for ten years.

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