April is the sweetest month and also National Poetry Month.
Some of my fellow poets have avowed to write a poem every day in April. I’d rather be helping my grapevines get ready to produce new wine in October. However, to spark my own creativity, sort of shine a flashlight beam into my ears and find out what is in there, — you know, we really have no idea what we can or will create until we take pen or brush or other tool in hand and move into the imaginative and thoughtful creative process — so
thinking that we are so arrogant to believe we can write a new poem every day, my choice is to simply write everyday, post it here, and hopefully unearth a few nuggets or fresh green onions that will sparkling and spice up our imagination or salad.
This is a misty moistly morning here Colorado Springs and I encourage all of us, this first day of April to take pen in hand, or brush or other creative instrument and make something happen with it — whether Mary flourishes out a design for a stained glass window, or Helen Hudson picks up her guitar and sings a song to the birds, or Bill Barns shares a memory of his first love affair with Italy. DO IT, this is our gift, and spiritual grace.
With clear and chill winds fisted clusters of blossoms pink the peach trees; garlic swords point to blue sky. A song trills from our ash tree. Always, now or after the rain, damp earth assures me that life will go on;
that starlight will necklace night and a planters moon will shine on new potato plantings; onion bulbs push up green tendrils, and OH! the greening of the lawn for barefoot tickles and comfort for our eyes. YES, OH YES, this spring is the very best and sweetest. Amen.
The new curator of the Vatican art treasures assures us,
“Art is a spiritual ambassador.”