Green: Poems Inspired by Color

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

Green began when I looked out my back windows and saw the new grass pushing up through the straw we laid down in the late fall after our addition was completed: fresh life sprouting on the new contour of our backyard. I then began meditating on the “evergreen” nature of the color – constant through all the seasons of life, be it the ubiquitous green grass (albeit covered with leaves or snow at times) or the pines, holly leaves, or deciduous trees in full leaf in the summer. Green is eternal.

I, on the other hand, am mortal, temporary, and frequently crumble at the slightest difficulty. The snows of life choke me out or weigh me down. Frequently, I’m more like the fragile early Spring flowers that burst forth with joy at the warming of the earth, only to be silenced by the cruel hand of an unexpected frost. This poem traces my pilgrimage from the backyard to “heaven’s blue threshold.” I invite you along for the journey.

Life’s Greening

Vincent H. Anastasi - 2021

New grass stands tall through rotting straw
like obedient pupils called forth
by Spring's instructive voice,
and the trees' red-bud-geodes burst
in colorful pinks and whites
before falling in snow petals
like confetti before Summer's leaf parade.

Here I await life's greening
in vernal envy -- the constant wealth
of good soil, fresh rain, and abundant sun.
Expectancy makes way as the early yellow leaves
deepen into emerald and jade
and the brown bare-branched chancels
fill with the songs of robins and cardinals.

All is young, but this green,
the arbiter between extremes, endures
despite late April's snow
and cloud-masked suns,
ineluctable through the changing seasons.

Forgive my crocus-petaled soul
that wilts at unforeseen frosts,
my buttercup fragility
reflecting cowardice beneath my chin.
Let me green, too,
arise at Your voice,
deepened in the ever fertile
soil of Your heart
that my sequoia song might rise,
incense like,
brushing heaven's blue threshold.

Published by thedeepened

I am a lover of words - the way they sing together in neat or sprawling lines upon the page, conducted by the great wordsmiths of all time. The way a sudden turn of phrase or surprising combination of sounds resonates with the deep within me, causing pause: moments of reflection and appreciation that transcend the superficial babblings and paltry visions of the infantile. Here at the deepening ground, it is my intent to make time and space for the reflection, appreciation, and creative imaginings that sustain the human soul.

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