Visit the Abbey of the Arts online retreat platform to access your programs:

Invitation to Poetry: A Celebration of Springtime!

Welcome to the Abbey’s 65th Poetry Party!

Liz RasmussenI select an image and suggest a theme/title and invite you to respond with your own poem. Scroll down and add it in the comments section below. Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog (if you have one), Facebook, or Twitter, and encourage others to come join the party!  (If you repost the photo, please make sure to include the credit link below it and link back to this post inviting others to join us).

This month we are celebrating the arrival of springtime in the northern hemisphere (or a springtime of the soul if spring feels far away where you live).

Your invitation is to write an Ode to Springtime or other poetic way of honoring the gifts and call of the season.  Write a poem in celebration of the earth’s and soul’s turning toward the time of blossoming.  Share it below in the comments with the Abbey community.

Photo Credit: “Pink and Sparkly” by Alizabeth Rasmussen of Faith Squared

(please use this credit if you repost this invitation on your blog and link back to the Abbey as well – thank you!)

On Friday, May 10th  I will draw a name at random from those who participate and the winner will receive a signed copy of Eyes of the Heart: Photography as a Christian Contemplative Practice directly from me in Ireland!

You might also enjoy

Monk in the World Guest Post: Michael Moore

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Wisdom Council member Michael Moore’s reflection on Sabbath and Silence. I am thankful to Christine and the Abbey community for this opportunity

Read More »

36 Responses

  1. Oh splendor above
    resemblance of winters’ flakes
    falling gently upon me

    I watch as pink clusters
    separate and colors fade
    from weeping cherry blossoms

    they descend and alight
    without hesitation
    on earths’ emerald carpet

    her beauty falls where it will
    she must listen and obey
    to her Mothers’ request

  2. Crimson Fruit

    Winter claws to hold the long dark days
    Emboldened by cold rains and daily frost
    Confident of triumph he muses alone
    And delights in thoughts of endless sleep
    Spring will never come, never win

    Ancient root planted before Winter’s rule
    A lone tree begins to swell, dares to blossom
    Breaking through bitter winds of indifferent ice
    With flowers spread towards the weakened light
    Spring is coming, Spring will win

    Under cloudy veil of the once warm sun
    Warm crimson fruit drops to a frozen ground
    Carnivorous birds of death circle the tree
    Piercing the flesh of the first fruit and chiding
    “Spring is coming, Spring will win”

    Winter watches as the tree is chopped and torn
    The branches thrown to the fruit soaked ground
    Confident of triumph he muses alone
    Stepping a vulgar dance on a once glorious tree
    Spring will never come, never win

    At Winter’s feet, green shoots break the soil
    Impotently stamping and thrashing he flails
    Seeds of derision born of the crimson fruit
    Forest of ancient glory destroying temporal rule
    Spring has come, Spring has won

    1. Thank so much for your story. I am smiling at Spring’s victory …Yes!

  3. Pink and Red

    How far you have come
    from the black hole of winter
    that made you blind to color.
    There in that place
    your brain had frozen over
    and you could not remember
    the colors of Spring
    or believe in
    living again.

    But oh the joy
    of surrendering to the season
    of dying to live again
    to witness anew
    the world popping with beauty
    to awaken from the dead
    and find yourself clothed
    in pink and red.

  4. Ahhh! The season of pink trees has arrived!
    I knew it would come, sooner or later.
    The trilliums whispered to me first,
    Then the skunk cabbage almost knocked me over.
    The thirty-foot high wild bitter cherry
    Started strewing blooms that collected
    In my locks, in the skinny fingers of grass.
    Faint frog choruses piped up from
    Distant woods.
    One morning— There!
    Pink trees in the city,
    And over the next few days,
    They opened their blossoms,
    Farther and farther north,
    Up and upward into the elevations,
    Until that perfect morning
    The pink trees bloomed in my yard.
    And it was on that day,
    I noticed the swallows flying,
    And I knew then, once again,
    The season of singing had come.

  5. Enfolded

    An image of softness
    moist with rainwater
    delicate petals enclosing
    defining, a secret
    sacred space.

    This Spring has been
    so long in coming;
    finally a hard road
    ending, in this place
    of tenderness.

    Unknown, some softness
    must have led me
    through those darkest
    days, to bring me
    home at last, enfolded

  6. Our walk is full of lovely blooms despite
    The chill that makes me bundle up for warmth.
    Electra sniffs with great delight, her tail
    awag as towards the beach and back we come
    so full of joy and gratitude for life.

  7. Dancing pink and swirling white
    Itching eyes delight in the explosion
    Fragrant breezes tickle my nose – achoo!
    Happy to see you, happy to see you go.

  8. SPRING, 2013

    Yesterday, sixty
    Today, downpouring rain and snow
    Tomorrow, flowers?

  9. I wrote this poem just before the poetry party was announced but it fits the theme. It was meant to be experience along with photo images so (with Christine’s permission) I will give you the link to my blog where it is posted as a YouTube video – if you want the full effect:
    http://findhope-mary.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-opening.html

    my heart is like a tiny tree bud
    in early spring
    wrapped so tightly in itself
    that it knows not
    whether it is living or dead.
    deep within its core
    it holds a truth it cannot name.
    but the little bud knows that
    not all truths are welcome
    in this dark world
    and it is afraid.

    violent storms rage and rage
    around the tiny bud
    as it clings to the only branch it knows.
    i watch and i wait.
    what else can i do?
    i look to heaven, pleading for a sign –
    will the bud survive?
    the sun smiles down
    and the breezes warm
    but they give no answer.

    and then it begins:
    the opening.
    shyly… just a little at first,
    fearful of what is coming.
    i pray again, my heart quivering
    as transformation unfolds.
    “be open!” the sun beckons.
    “stay rooted in me,” the earth invites.
    “reach for the sky!” cries the wind.

    my heart can wait no longer.
    it cannot remain but a bud.
    a living Truth bursts forth
    and shatters the walls
    that held it tight within itself.
    it is not the old life anymore –
    it cannot be.
    my heart can be my heart no more.

    it is Beauty,
    only Beauty…

    1. Wow….thank you so much….I watched your video and through it I received a much needed gift today.

  10. Spring Light

    the Light begins
    to move
    across the sky
    slowly it creeps back
    awakening my soul,
    opening my eyes
    after the dark night of winter,
    the sun’s warmth
    soaks into my bones,
    lighting the way,
    the earth begins to hum
    with budding potential,
    green unfurls its tiny flags
    and then my heart
    opens to new possibilities
    take me,
    spring Light.