Intensity of Spring

OK.  I tried to make this a nicer reflection.  But the ducks are mine, and it is important I think to see the ducks in their entirety, as it is important that God sees each of us in our entirety... and God does.  While I may strain to see the beauty, I take comfort that for God, the love comes without any strain at all.   Imagine that: No Strain at All.

The ducks are doing what they naturally do as ducks.  Of course we have choice, which separates us from the ducks.  And God gave us that choice, and of course we blow it regularly.  And God still loves us and allows us to begin again, even when we have messed it up royally. 

Ah... now the lady out back is in turquoise.  It must be spring.

The morning blue sky,

The three warblers in the leafless tree

In back,

They will continue north

Soon.

The ducks:

they must have had breakfast

Before I got here, but no

No: here they are

They show the energy, the intensity of spring

OK

In our family we call it the spring raping of the ducks

More than intensity there is violence here

Male on female violence,

No Disneyland animals, these.

If the ducks are mine it seems important

To see all of the ducks.

I admit I would rather pretend

They just chase one another

Or it*s a massive game

of hide and seek;

Or this is just a general spring poem

Of blue and greening

And the false blue indigo with its other-worldly shoots

Beginning

To emerge.

No

The ducks are mine

All of the ducks are mine

Today they do not play games.

Today is survival;

I strain to see the beauty

In survival.