Nature's Revelations: God Speaks Through Beauty
Poetry by Gill Schwartz

SACRED SUNDAY IN MAY

Winds that, but months before, had carried her parched leaves to the
earth,
now playfully swirl the fresh born buds springing from her boughs.
Grandmother Maple again rebirths from Winter's bitter dissolution
to tenderly offer her embrace with reaching, seeded green, fingers.

In attending to her over these years thus transmuting with the seasons,
rooted in my truth that her beauty is holy, she instructs my soul.
Today, this Sabbath, joyful with her splendor, all my bindings wilt,
drop to the earth as her dead leaves had done, as compost to me now.

I sense this renewed world around me to know in my own natural way,
no welter of mind webbing to snare me, no need for self shielding.
My sacred Sunday self is welcoming. The body is more mine, perceiving
without filters. The Heart is God's, embraced in Grandmother's hug.

Devoutly vulnerable and altogether open, sensitive to every force,
nature's relentless creativity fuels her fearless quest
so that here, now, on this day consecrated to the Lord's contentment,
her embrace nurtures me like a vision, like lovemaking from the soul.

 

 

 

Copyright Nathaniel Schwartz 2003   www.WisdomVisions.com