Winterpast

Welcome to the new blog.


My Lover spoke and said to me,
"Arise, my darling,
my beautiful one,
and come with me.
See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me."

-- The Song of Solomon

I once knew a girl (or did I know someone that knew a girl?), that kept this chapter sealed with Scotch tape until her wedding day, whenever, if ever, that might be. What a sad loss! For next to all the steaming embraces of this book is such inaugural joy. And tonight, the longest night in all the year, I join the wise king's cry of winterpast, the invitation to celebration. For we must believe in Spring long before she proves herself with buds and mild rains, and with the fecundity of the earth. She will not come for us without a little coaxing, without a song.

I have been hidden away in a rock cleft for three years of springs. That is far too long. I shall not miss another.