THE MIRACLE OF SPRING
The little brown bulbs went to the sleep in the ground
In their little brown nighties they slept very sound
And Winter, he raged and he roared overhead!
But never a bulb turned over in bed.
But when Spring came tiptoeing over the lea
Her fingers on lip, just as still as could be
The little brown bulbs at the very first tread
All split up their nighties and jumped out of bed!
Little Brown Bulbs
Author Unknown
This little poem moves me so my eyes tear up every single time I read it. I first came across it years ago in a gardening pull-out section of Woman’s Day magazine. I cut out the page and saved it in such a safe place that now I have no idea where I put it. I wanted to introduce this chapter about The Miracle of Spring with this perfect little poem about bulbs and, after finally finding it on the internet imbedded in a 700 page archive, here it is for you to enjoy, too!
But why does such a delightful poem bring tears to my eyes? I think it is because this poem captures the essence of the miracle and mystery of life. How is it possible that those ugly little dusty, crusty odd-shaped brown things you plant in your garden in October hold tightly inside themselves the blueprints for beauty? Bright red tulips, giant amaryllis, tiny blue woodland hyacinths perfectly shaped like bells, daffodils of white and pink and gold. Nature’s magic is at work teaching us the basic lessons of life: Ugly ducklings turn into swans, beauty can be disguised as a beast and don’t ever judge a flower by its bulb. These lumpy little brown bulbs hold within them the blueprints for patience and the faith of a mustard seed. A gentle kiss from the sun and the sweet whisper of Spring is all that’s required to awaken the breath of life into a soundly sleeping seed.
The Miracle of Spring truly is metaphorically and biblically described as having the faith of a mustard seed. Just imagine what YOU could achieve if you had such a great faith.
"And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you."
Matthew 17:20
KJV
Are you ready? Spring is about to spring and we have lots of work to do. Spring won’t wait. Time to march forward!
The air is like a butterfly
With frail blue wings.
The happy earth looks at the sky
And sings.
Joyce Kilmer
Spring
Author's Note:
I have revised my original "The Miracle of Spring" chapter because just like the seasons I have changed, too. I had envisioned myself writing this book from my cozy home office on Long Island, gazing out my windows at the melting snow and emerging bulbs. Or, in the summer on a lazy afternoon, with the windows open to catch a sweetly scented breeze. And on an autumn day watching the golden leaves fall and swirl silently down upon the lawn. Then, finally, in the winter on one of those glorious mornings when I would wake up and joyously exclaim: "It's snowing!."
Living in Florida is so different. Spring arrives here so much sooner than I want it to. It is only the beginning of March and already the wildflowers are everywhere. Yes. The wildflowers are so beautiful. I'm just not quite ready for the 80 degree temps and the sweltering sun and all that comes with it. I'm just not. But…
I am firmly planted here now for weal or woe. The winter of my life is coming soon and this new place is where I will be to greet it. There is no going back. And yet…I am always looking back.
Our local newspaper had a contest last year for Photo of the Week. Springtime in Sumter County. I had the perfect photo. It made the page and here it is!
Blooming where you're planted is extremely hard for a perennial in the wrong climate. But no matter where you go, nature is always all around you.
Spring is the time of renewal and resurrection. This year…this Spring...I hope to accomplish my goal of rising again like a Phoenix.
SHE WAS NEVER BORED Upon my grave I’d like a stone Inscribed with words for me alone Who started in a dark, warm womb And ended in a dark, cold tomb I’d like a statue of a phoenix Rising from the blackened pyre Reborn into a greater place And soaring from this earthly fire Just say I knew each breath I took Was such a sweet delightful gift I always knew that time’s a crook And steals the hours fast and swift My final words, my final wish To have my life be underscored Upon my stone please just say this “A whole life lived and never bored” Janet Lynn Toczek-Cucharo