life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “Spring”

spring fling

In these early spring days
before their fullness
the trees have a light in their eyes,
the packed, swelling buds,
these delicate feathers and fingers,
(and the blossoms,
the crazy blossoms!)
and then the tiniest leaves,
little baby exclamation points,
raised eyebrows
freckling the changed woods.

To attain individuality
and courage and creativity
you don’t have to do some
outlandish thing.
Just let the beauty
of the Beloved
deep within
come out.

The birds
just can’t stop talking about it.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light





The woods this morning didn’t look any different from autumn: trees bare, grass brown, dead leaves on muddy ground. But spring is happening. The woods were thick with bird song. I saw the beaver who hides in the brook. I came upon a little marsh where some little critter was singing away, a single frog proclaiming its news. Others joined in, in a great chorus of peeping and screeching. I couldn’t see any of them. I stood there a long time and looked, but I couldn’t find one. I came nearer—and of course they all stopped. They knew I was there. And though I could not see them, I knew they were there.

Most of what goes on in this world is unseen. Planets orbit, flocks migrate, cells and organs work in the darkness. And love does its work. Skeptics look for proof of God, as if God were Bigfoot, as if The Holy One were any more provable than love or humor, as if paparazzi could somehow catch Spirit taking out the trash. No, God is The Unseen One. The closer we come the more there is only mystery. Fools never realize that when we stop knowing and can only wonder, we are seeing God.

We learn to tune our hearts to the invisible, to see with our souls, not just our eyes, to know that we live in a world and in the company of a Presence whose power and grace so far exceeds our capacity to know or see or understand that all we can do is wonder and trust. The world sings its song. God is at work. We come near, and listen with gratitude, and wonder and trust.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light


Fools come and go
As does life
but we are still here,
you and I,
living this dance
between the two sacred spaces
of our eternity,
birth and death,
connecting our living
with the whole
of what was before
and what will come after
the unbroken tread
the unbreakable thread
the circle of Love
the blind Father
who welcomes us
as He does all his children
to this glorious celebration
because we are all equally
his beloved

AL 4/2/13

winter. spring. winter

Tomorrow is the first day of Spring, but there’s six inches of snow in the yard and it’s still coming down. In the woods where days ago there were pools there are now piles of snow. We are ready for spring to come, but it comes in fits and starts. As a little girl once said, “I’ve figured out the seasons. It goes summer, autumn, winter, spring, winter, spring, winter, spring.” Of course all the seasons do that. This is just the Vernal version of Indian Winter. We notice it most in spring because we long so deeply for renewal.

Sunday is Palm Sunday, and as Jesus enters Jerusalem we’ll celebrate him as a king, shouting praise. But before the service is over we’ll be shouting, “Crucify him!” Winter, spring, winter…. We are saved, but we are still working out our salvation. We are one with God and with all Creation, but we trust our oneness only in fits and starts. We who are made new still long for renewal. We believe; God help our unbelief.

Neither we nor the Church nor society are “getting better every day.” Some days we get worse. But Jesus understands. He knows his disciples will deny him, but says, “Listen! Satan has demanded to sift all of you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your own faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned back, strengthen your sisters and brothers” (Lk. 22.31-32).

Neither our inner nor our outer lives are one smooth, simple arc like a hit baseball. The path is rough and winding. We rise and fall, dip and swing, lurch and stop and lurch again. Stuff happens. But through it all, Jesus walks with us and prays for us. The Spirit bears us on. Spring is in us still, working its life-giving magic, producing renewal. It just doesn’t come all at once, forever. The Beloved breathes in us, and even in our failures and desolations we are becoming more fully the beloved people God creates us to be. Under the snow the crocuses keep pushing up; the buds still swell on the trees.

Even when spring reverts to winter in your soul, shovel the snow, but keep the faith. We are being transformed, from one degree of glory to another. We are being re-created. The world is turning, and our inconsistencies can’t stop it. The Spirit is living and growing in you. Wait for the Lord.
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light


words that capture the feeling of spring


It’s the immemorial feelings
I like the best: hunger, thirst,
their satisfaction; work-weariness,1
earned rest; the falling again
from loneliness to love;
the green growth the mind takes
from the pastures in March;
The gayety in the stride
of a good team of Belgian mares
that seems to shudder from me
through all my ancestry.

by Wendell Berry

Understanding God

If you want to understand God
walk up to a blooming lilac
and hide your face in the light purple.

Gather all the memories of that scent
from your childhood.
(Don’t confuse the roses at your grave.)

Imagine giving that aroma to someone.
Imagine them receiving it.

Now, you still don’t understand God.
But what you do
is enough.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

Happy Easter!!!


Love crucified arose! Wooo hoooo!

Spring wishes


I’m not sure who decided that dandelions were weeds, but the poor dandelion got a bad deal.
I walked through my new yard this morning on a beautiful bed of cheery, wish-filled dandelions, my favorite little violets and lucky, lucky clover. I sat on the deck and discovered the cutest little inch worm crawling on my hand and sang the inch worm song as i put him back in the grass, and as I thrilled to the bounty and beauty of spring, I was also reminded of my dad paying me a luxurious nickel for each large paper grocery bag full of dandelions I produced. I was never very good and probably only deserved 1/2 of my nickel! Ha
I’m kinda proud of that now, cause I like dandelions! Who decided they were weeds?????
More to come when I get rested up and get somewhat settled!
Happy Spring – bask, wallow and enjoy every beautiful bit!
Happy Spring to all!

extravagantly glorious pink trees for everyone!!!

Happy Spring to all!

Spring is busting out all over and the world is full of beautiful color! I love Spring!!!! My very favorite season!



Last year I did a Spring newsletter


Might need this bat for mine…


Toward the end of winter I came upon
the Lord on a diamond, batting.

I said, “ Lord, what are you doing?”
These are your sins,” he said,

as a shadowy figure on the mound
with a vicious arm pitched.

He had no instinct: swung at everything,
even dirtballs. And hit ’em every time.

He had a beautiful swing,
fluid, sure, and joyful.

He hit pitch after pitch, endlessly.
I lost myself, watching.

Out of the park” he said, his eye
on a nasty looking knuckleball,

and swung like a dancer,
gracefully unwinding.  Chock!

It rose up over the fence, over the trees,
released from all earthly bonds,

floating free until it disappeared,
infinitely gone, still rising.

He watched it go, as if
he’d never seen such a beautiful thing.

I love this game,” he grinned,
and set for another pitch.

I think he was honestly
pleased with himself.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
 Used With Permission
Unfolding Light

 happy spring training baseball people!

Be Sure to Take A Beautiful Path

The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

More options for inspiration at

Post Navigation