"brood oer' us...."

"brood oer' us
with thy sheltering wing,
neath which our spirits blend..."
- M. B. Eddy

spring came early
this year...

warm sunlight
bathed the porch in
liquid gold,
pooling against the
clapboards,
and lingering in
dappled waves of
summer's promise,
tucked softly
under the
eaves...

before I could
strip the window boxes
of December's pine boughs and
holly,
she came and
feathered
a secret cache...

last year's
brittle grass
and bits of
ribbon...
strands of silver
and the raffia she'd
unlaced from
a wreath
made in
november when the
air was filled with
burning leaves
and
overripe fruit
dripped from
branches
heavy with the
scent of
something already
sleeping
before the snow...

but,
she
was eager to
prepare for their arrival...

our window boxes
now
her
manger
claimed before the
first crocuses of spring
reached
slender
arms above the
loamy
earth
to touch a
daystar
as it coursed across
the sky

back and forth
she flew
with tiny flecks of
lint and
wool
to soften a
cradle
made of
straw

will a
star
rise in the
east
the day that
they are
born...

who can know
the form
of Love
when eagles
bow
to
a sparrow's
child...

and
women
bring gifts
to crown
the
daughters
of a
morning
dove...

“...fed by Thy love, divine,
we live,
for love alone is Life...”
― M. B. Eddy