Symbolism isn't always apparent when I take a photo.
In this instance, I was simply prompted by the colors, the reflections, the quiet of this spot in Charleston Falls Park.
But now I see the greening of renewal, the fallen tree both as a symbol of decay which will lead to renewal and as a footbridge, offering a choice at that juncture, of wading through the stream of events, or of taking a dry, if somewhat acrobatic, crossing ... all symbols of passages.
Appropriate, I was thinking last night ... looking at the calendar, wondering at how fast this new year seems to be going.
And it is, I think ... time for a moment of reflecting as we turn over that leaf on the calendar (even if we do it electronically, there's that thoughtful pause, perhaps, before we get back onto the racetrack).
Renewal, I think, can really come at any time of year ... any day ... any moment.
End of sermon.
And now the poem:
RENEWAL
How sad sounding
the rains of spring
were, thudding
on the empty drum
of my young life.
Renewal lacked
meaning for me,
but the years
have washed away
that emptiness.
meaning for me,
but the years
have washed away
that emptiness.
Now the song
of those gentle
drops on my roof
nurtures dreams
of beginnings
and new growth.
of those gentle
drops on my roof
nurtures dreams
of beginnings
and new growth.
© 2002
(originally published in Brave Hearts)
Today's word: beginnings
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