Stephen of Fractured Faith asked recently if I had written a new poem. Inspiration finally struck last night. Hope you all enjoy, and please feel free to leave your comments and critiques, or share what inspires you, in the comments below.
Spring Shoots
Shoots do not shoot.
After frigid winter, they stretch up slowly,
Touching cool soil with tentative fingertips.
When they sense sun’s warmth on the backs of their hands,
They unfurl each finger, uncurl each joint,
Fingertips green peeking from the dirt
And reaching for the sun.
Then they know – their hope is sure.
They will not spend an eternal winter in darkness.
When the sun shines in perfect time,
Those shoots will rise to meet the light,
Vernal, visceral, victorious –
Resurrected.
Spring Shoots copyright Meredith C. Jackson, 2019.
My Way Home 
It was worth the wait. Thank you 😊
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So glad you enjoyed it. 😊
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Every word was perfect, and the metaphor was unexpected and beautiful!
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Thanks so very much. I know you realize how tough it can be to choose just the right words. 😊
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Beautiful piece.. I’m not sure but to me it means there’s time and season for everything.
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I love that poetry can speak to people in different ways. Another parallel I was trying to make, especially in the final lines, was of the rapture of the church.
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Interestingly true.
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Beautiful and intriguing! I’ll always think of the new plants approaching the surface slowly when I hear the term “spring shoots” now.
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Thanks, Lily!🌱
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