Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Winter of the Mind


Stripped bare, all twigs and bark,
Sap slow,
Primal essetials shed leafy ephemera.
Pride pruned,
I bank fire for full-bloomed Spring.

(Kim Anderson 2006. All rights reserved.)

Gardeners prefer to prune in fall and winter when the sap is sluggish and a cut won't bleed the tree to death. They prune when leafless summetry is displayed without distractions, in time to allow the tree to hoard its strength for spring's opportunities.

Then there are the bonfires, the last glory of withered Christmas greens and misshapen garden limbs alike.

God is a patient Gardener, One who knows the value of gathering winter. This snow-banked pause at the turn of the year crystallizes God's invitation to cooperate with His pruning. What stays? What goes? And will I dance in the firelight as the things that sap my strength go up in smoke?


Mark Kodak said...

What a beautiful poem. Reminded me a little of William's,
"Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day "

The image of hibernation and new life from within is Adamic. The dry naked bones of the trees in winter reaching up to heaven. They long to be clothed again. They thirst for the rain, the baptism.

Kim Anderson said...

Adam, Yes! See also Psalm 1. We are the trees planted and watered like Eden...

Bethany said...

So beautiful. You have a lovely blog here! I'll be stopping back by. BTW, thank you for the kind comments you left on my blog!

eph2810 said...

Ah, His pruning can be sometimes very hurtful, put I think that they are very necessary...Thank you for reminding me of this.


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