It’s that time of year again – “Spring Break.” The unfortunate truth, however, for those of us who will be stuck in this state shaped like a piece of winter outerwear is that it is so Not Spring. Sure, there’s no homework for the next nine days, but there will still be cold and probably another several inches of snow. And, what Michigan winter would be complete without a full-fledged ice storm? Granted, I haven’t heard any reports of ice on the way, but when it comes to Michigan’s winter weather, I’m incapable of being an optimist. Â All this boils down to one undeniable fact – I, and I’m guessing a few other Michiganders, am/are suffering from a severe case ofÂ Cabin Fever. The only thing standing between me and running around like a madwoman aiming my hairdryer at the snowdrifts outside my door is the knowledge that if I manage to hold onto my sanity and dignity through March, the sun is bound to shine a little more and the world to grow a little greener.
In a somewhat misguided attempt to make myself forget that it’s cold and grey outside, I decided to search for some poems about Spring. While I failed in happily reconciling myself to enduring another month of Winter, I did find a couple poems on poemhunter.com that I would like to share.
This first poem by Robert Seymour Bridges perfectly describes the feeling of waiting for the transition to Spring to occur:
While yet we wait for spring, and from the dry
And blackening east that so embitters March,
Well-housed must watch grey fields and meadows parch,
And driven dust and withering snowflake fly;
Already in glimpses of the tarnish’d sky
The sun is warm and beckons to the larch,
And where the covert hazels interarch
Their tassell’d twigs, fair beds of primrose lie.
Beneath the crisp and wintry carpet hid
A million buds but stay their blossoming;
And trustful birds have built their nests amid
The shuddering boughs, and only wait to sing
Till one soft shower from the south shall bid,
And hither tempt the pilgrim steps of spring.
~Robert Seymour Bridges
In it’s first stanza, this poem by Robert Frost calls for us to be happy when it is Spring and not to anxiously look forward to the Fall. While the situation here in Michigan now is not exactly the same, perhaps these first lines can be a source of inspiration for patience in our wait for the Spring.
A Prayer in Spring
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill.
Have a wonderful Spring Break, and stay warm!