To Lys (1996)

White.

A blank canvas.

A surface of endless possibilities.

The two of us- a pair- stand before it

With brushes poised-

Midair.

Almost hesitant to begin, lest we, through our folly

Should disturb the beauty of such perfectly unmarred space.

We plan and worry and laugh with girlish lightheartedness-

And in the end, will the shapes and light and 

Color and space all conjoin harmoniously?

We stand-

Silently appreciating the vibrancy and life

Which the other has to contribute

Enjoying this light, this room, this youth,

This Now....

Realizing all the while that very soon we will each begin anew-

A canvas of our own.

come to me, spring

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

-e.e. cummings-

really, e.e. cummings?  how does anyone write anything this beautiful?

happiness is not something i have ever really had a talent for, even as a child.  but when it comes, these lines are what it feels like.  what i love about mr. cummings is that he writes the way things feel, not the way we've learned to describe them. leaping greenly spirits of trees? don't they really seem that way on a perfect spring day? it's so much better and more accurate a description than talking about green branches blowing in clear air.... and i think this poem describes accurately the kind of saving god i believe in.  e.e. cummings, sometimes you make me want to weep for joy.