May and Flowers
May, and its that season
when flowers abound
and children gather bouquets
and garlands all around
to celebrate Mothers
bringing whatever comes to hand
from field or garden:
tokens of love to present
with hugs and kisses.
And the grief of who misses
a child her mother or
a mother her child
will not, cannot be forgot
and the ones who would be
mothers— if only, if only.
God Bless them all each one.
Filed under Seasonal
Lessons in the Lilac
What could be more beautiful?
The warbling of the birds,
the scents of the flowers
or the lilac blooms themselves?
I came outside to admire
the lilacs in their full glory,
inhale their light perfume.
Instead, I stopped enthralled
by hidden choristers:
birds singing in excited
conversations
one musical trill to another
from deep within the shrubbery.
An echo from across the way
answers—
A moment in harmony.
Hope in Dark Times
If you peer out one window
all you may see are grey clouds
dark, foreboding, swirling.
If you peek out another
in the opposite direction
note a patch of blue surfaces
the sun gilds a spot on the hills.
The clouds will retract
the day will brighten.
And the Son will come.
We have his Word on it.
May Day 2022: Pinecrest Azalea Garden, Oak Ridge, MO
Walking into a wonderland
someone’s hands have fashioned:
a spring floribunda fiesta—
an abundance of azaleas
mound up around
a grove of oak and pines.
A hillside, a valley all
drenched in color sublime.
Wander, stroll, ramble
the grassy promenades,
pause
take photos with mind and eyes
focus on the details, beware the bees.
Dwell a spell on a worn, welcoming
bench. Quench your thirst
in petalled bounty.
Drink deeply love’s manifest
expression
thanking God and those whose
vision creates, maintains and
freely offers
this rare treasure.
Walk with care all who
pass here. Pay tribute
in whatever coin you have to give..
c.2022 Darlene Moore Berg
The question is what does God require of you, and what are
you willing to do in response?
You did not turn stones to bread
on the dry, dusty roads of your life, Christ.
For yourself, your own comfort, what did you do
—-nothing, ever?
No recorded self-centered act?
The water to wine trick….
That was at your mother’s insistence.
And did you have a taste of it yourself?
The fig tree without figs—it became a parable,
not a fit of peevishness.
Like the branches that refuse to bear fruit:
lopped off and thrown on the brush pile.
Hey, I get it: faith without works—
that trip James explained.
The pressing demanding crowds
who barged in on your quiet times…
Christ, Lord, you fed them with broken pieces
of bread and fish—not words of admonishment.
You did not turn one leper away,
one more interruption to the day.
Instead you…
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Sap rises in early spring
Deep roots feeding the new buds
Off grafted branches
What fruit will it bring?
Sunday February 27, 2022
One week ago
I folded up the banner “Peace on Earth”
I had left displayed
across my fireplace mantle
a left over Christmas decoration.
One week ago
inconceivable an unprovoked invasion
or an all out war
bombing, shelling, air strikes, tanks
a coordinated attack by land , sea, air.
One week ago
unaware the cold, calculated malice,
the disregard for human life and property
a power grab in the making
defying the civilized world.
Prayers for Ukraine, prayers for peace.
c. February 27, 2022 Darlene Moore Berg
Marvel
The word for the day is ‘marvel’
wonder in the mystery of Gods creativity
His provision.
It starts with flinging open the bedroom curtains
and noting the tendrils of the sun’s dawn
pinking the jet trail eastward bound.
How can may fly so high?
A creative, curious mind gifted by God
imagines flight:
the physics of lift and thrust.
Trust in an ordered universe.
Birds pluck the remaining red seed
from off the viburnum.
Purple finches and cardinals vie for seeds.
He, the Lord, meets all their and our needs.
I flip over slices of French toast
rich in color from the yolks of farm fresh eggs.
Break fast with His grace.
Marvel at the taste of pure maple syrup
sweetening this morning’s repast.
c. Darlene Moore Berg
The Last Prayer
a reflection from 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
for Kathy P. may you rest in peace
Each exhalation of breath:
a prayer
a thanksgiving
a joy in knowing
He who gives breath, gives life,
gives hope.
And when the last breath
comes and leaves this body
the last prayer rises into heaven
accompanied with heart, spirit, soul
until the resurrection
of the whole.
c. Darlene Moore Berg 12/29/2021
My King?
Psalm 93:1a “The Lord is King! He is clothed in majesty” NLT
Seeking a king, men stumble into a stable
fall on knees in a mixture of dirt and straw.
Coarse cloth wraps a bundle
An infant in unbleached “robes”is all they saw.
What gifts does he require?
What gifts will he receive?
Probe your heart, what is your desire?
With tear-stained sleeves
raise eyes to perceive your king—
bloodied, naked on the cross.
Feel the loss, the price He bears for you.
An infant cries, you grieve within the moment
pierced with wonder, with joy.
The birth of a boy, the coming of a King. My King.
Darlene's Poetical Pursuits 