Letters: Spring 21, Saying it with Flowers

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