Midwife of Spring

O Gentle Midwife of Spring~
You Who bring forth
from Winter’s Womb of Night,
All Beauteous Things
to vibrant Life and Light,
and so too Our Very Souls.

Once bare and brittle
from brutal depth of cold,
You warm Us from within;
Your sweet sap of Hope rising
as We open to Your moist and verdant Love.

This All Wise Souls,
All Saints have known,
that though We strive and grope and groan,
Our greening comes from Love Alone;
from swift and sure surrender.

Forsaking the fortress
of rational mind
for the sweet and tender
fields of the Deepest Heart;
stripped of armor, exposed
to the Elements of which We are made,
taking Our place in the Wondrous Wild
of which We are naturally part.

The Earth, the Soul,
cannot be owned,
cannot be tamed
and Love will win
however things may seem.

O Midwife of Spring,
with Hands of Grace
and Spirit’s Power,
in Earth and Souls’
uncertain hour,
in spite of all still dark and dour~
bring forth God’s Perfect Dream.

Happy Spring!
~Cheryl Anne  

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