Letters: Spring 21, Saying it with Flowers
This week’s readers’ letter comes in form of a poem written by Colin Parish.
Only now, when things are calmer
It seems to me my darkest hour
Bore just a touch of melodrama
Explained by common garden flower:The snowdrop draws me to her face
“Have faith; a wondrous Spring is nigh!”
“Time hangs suspended,” I reply
“I have no hope of jubilation
Locked in Winter’s desolation
Just as the season has grown colder
And loved ones placed beyond my reach
I feel my psyche growing older
And lockdown draining like a leach
For this has been a war
This year, these past few months – have been my war!”
The flower recoiled:
“A war? You’re calling this a war? A Winter war you never had.
I have lived nigh eighty years; blossomed first in Stalingrad!
I have witnessed at first hand the price
Of conflict, and the frozen slaughter
Until you’ve seen this at close quarter
Do not lecture me on sacrifice!
And then, it seemed, her tone grew softer ….
“This has been war, I see that’s true
And all wars bring their dear departed
The lost, bereaved and broken-hearted
This was your war – of fear, of hopes
Your ‘soldiers’ marched with stethoscopes!
Those medics, they were Heaven sent
(Worth more, perhaps, than one percent!)
But some souls lost far more than you.”
A further voice intrudes upon our conversation
A tulip, rising from her sleep, stretches, yawns
Says “Hi, I overheard your meditation
I understand your grief; the whole world mourns
And so it should. But now let go your fear
For Snowdrop’s ‘Spring’ is more than near – it’s here!”
And even as she spoke this vow
Golden sunlight melted clouds
Unremitting funeral shrouds.
Which had been frozen until now
Then dimwit I made late connection
This was indeed a resurrection
Of days when all our blackbirds sing
Rebirth of long-awaited Spring!
Written by Colin Parish, Doncaster