New Creation

Newborn leaves

shouting a flamboyant green

unfurl from bare branches.

Spring! it all cries,

jubilant to be alive.

The rhythm

of the seasons

bringing dead things to life.

Hope realized

in physical matter.

A testament to faithfulness.

And I wonder,

is the sap of creation

flowing in me?

Or am I stuck in winter's slumber yet,

routine blinding me

from new life?

Somedays I feel

more like an old tree,

my sap sluggish,

my branches bare.

Nothing helpful or beautiful

to think or share.

Emotions and ideas resting still,

stale and dull.

But then I hear

the song of birds,

feel a warm breeze

and the sun on my face.

And my spirit stirs,

hope sprouts,

and new creation

simmers.

New creation:

a promise

and a fact.

As surely as I can walk

outside

and touch, see and smell

new life,

I also know it's in me,

a dead thing brought to life.

I am a new creation.

Hope realized

in spiritual matter.

A testament

to faithfulness.

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