Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Unexpected thaw

Unexpected thaw

The frozen giants were surprised to hear the dripping water.
        The gentle sounds creep into sylvan dreams.
The spluttering rivulets.
The burble of little streams cutting through the ice along the road.

Squirrels swoop up their tails to dance across the softening snow, 
     stopping in dramatic pose to sniff the sweetness on the air. 
            On tiptoes, they leap, avoiding puddles in their daily path.

The trickles barely graze the woody minds. 
     Like distant sounds of breakfast way downstairs on Sunday morning. 
           Dozing, while joyful sun is dancing through the window. 
                The cozy warmth and brightness keep eyelids closed.

That bright sun bathes the frozen, sleeping giants with a rosy-orange glow.  
        Warmth begins to seep into the heartwood; 
                 bark expands as sap begins to flow.  

Content, the giants murmur in their sleep.

Birds swoop out to meet the southern wind.
      Wild melody bursts out in empty landscape,  
           the bird himself surprised to hear the sound.  
                      Followed by a hush, solemn and still.  
       After a moment far longer than an echo, 
             the song is heard repeated far away.

All the while, the water droplets drip, the drips turn into rivulets, 
          the rivulets begin to widen into pools and puddles all around.

A SPLASH as children run after the dog. 
          Splash and stomp and soak the boots clean through.

The laugher bounces here and there, then fades.

The trees begin to itch to stretch their spines, 
          extend their limbs, 
                and crack their bony knuckles. 

But wait, the frozen giants try to think…  it can't be time for Spring?

Just let me sleep a little more. 
         I’ll get up soon. 
                  I promise.


            He sends out his command to the earth;
                        his word runs swiftly.
            He gives snow like wool;
                        he scatters frost like ashes.
            He hurls down his crystals of ice like crumbs;
                        who can stand before his cold?
            He sends out his word, and melts them;
                        he makes his wind blow and the waters flow.

                                                            ~Psalm 147:15-18

Treasure from the Junk Drawer
copyright © Sara Shull
•All text and poetry by Sara
•Art illustrations by Sara
•Photos by Sara or the Shull kids
~~~~All rights reserved~~~~

Bible verses:
The Holy Bible, English Standard Version (ESV)