Daffodil Promise

 

Daffodil Promise

Yesterday, 

after a week of chaos and capitols, 

my sister phoned to simply say 

she had seen the first daffodils of the year 

and what hope they had given her.

This morning I went to look for them.

Frost crowned and frayed

I found them.

There they were.

keeping their own company

beneath the brittle thorns,

bright yellow nodding promise of

an as yet months away Spring

And I thought how important,

how deeply important it is,

to pay attention,

to look for signs of hope.

to seek out the green bud on the wintered branch,

the tiny shoot beneath the frost,

the snowdrop in the snow.

To stop and listen long enough 

to hear their seed song telling

that nothing, nothing, nothing,

stops the Spring from coming.

That far beyond the pride of tryrants,

the fall of empires,

the callous cruelty of the crowd,

there is a hope long Eden sown into 

the very essence of it all

shining out in quiet ways around us,

heard in the Robin’s pre-dawn song,

felt in the frost cracked earth,

touched in the kind and outstretched hand,

seen in the first golden crown,

of frosted daffodils.