Praise God! It’s Spring!

Praise God! It’s Spring

Song of Solomon 2: 11-13

. . . for behold, the winter is past;
the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth,
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtledove
is heard in our land.
The fig trees ripens its figs,
and the vines are in blossom;
they give forth fragrance.

What is this beautiful bravado
a daffodil displays like a forward platoon
as if defying the coldness of winter
and declaring the warmth of spring’s arising?

Can You Imagine?

Can you imagine a springtime
without all her pretty flowers,
with no daffodils hurrying
with their bright blossoms
rustling bravely in the freezing
breezes while winter ends?

And what of the whitening pride
of the pear trees bright white
all in a line mirroring the clouds
shimmering silver singing sweet psalms reflecting the sun?

Can you imagine a springtime
without all her pretty flowers,
with no pear trees whitening
like clouds in the heavens,
glimmering as the sunshine
glorifies the horizon?

Then come those glorious tulips
trumpeting the news: the Resurrected rules
while every garden rejoices
resounding with fresh, reborn, exultant praise.

Can you imagine a springtime
without all her pretty flowers,
with no tulips resurrected,
risen, their alleluias
resounding across the
world, joy arising?

What about the dogwoods so delightful
proclaiming Jesus’ parable, His death and
his rising sharing His Good News
scattered happily all around?

Can you imagine a springtime
without all her pretty flowers,
with all the redbuds and all
the dogwoods flaunting their
splendid array of pastels
scattered across the forests?

And then I think of azaleas
every blossom a jewel majestic
among multitudes of sisters
singing their choruses of glorious praises.

Can you imagine a springtime
without all her pretty flowers;
azaleas, begonias,
irises, eventually
lilies and gladiolas,
dancing for God’s glory.

An iris rises elegant and lovely
like some princess royal, holy to the Lord
bold witness to His glory magnificent
resplendent yet worshipping His Goodness.

Can you imagine a springtime
triumphant over one more winter
without this vast display busting
forth in resurrection
power, God’s reminder His
own Son has indeed arisen?

It seems like gladiolas stretch
their bright blossoms to the sky
reaching toward the One who
makes them all for the beauty of the earth.

Can you imagine the awful
price the Son as the Lamb has paid
carrying the heavy weight of sin,
enduring the absence
of the Father’s own Love
so we might in Him, live?

For us every flower abounds in praise
placed precisely in His Garden
a beauty among the beauties
who each and every lovely one
in joy bows down to the King of Kings.