Last week it seemed that winter had just begun, but this evening a balmy wind blew in from I can’t imagine where, and made me think ahead to when actual winter will be over and gone. I offer this poem that makes reference to that point in the future, metaphorically:
A SHORT TESTAMENT
Whatever harm I may have done
In all my life in all your wide creation
If I cannot repair it
I beg you to repair it,
And then there are all the wounded
The poor the deaf the lonely and the old
Whom I have roughly dismissed
As if I were not one of them.
Where I have wronged them by it
And cannot make amends
I ask you
To comfort them to overflowing,
And where there are lives I may have withered around me,
Or lives of strangers far or near
That I’ve destroyed in blind complicity,
And if I cannot find them
Or have no way to serve them,
Remember them. I beg you to remember them
When winter is over
And all your unimaginable promises
Burst into song on death’s bare branches.
–Anne Porter
Gladsome Lights 
A beautiful picture and thoughtful poem!
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Wise words here. The humility in that poem is inspiring and, well, humbling.
God bless you, Gretchen Joanna.
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Thank you, Sandi ❤️
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The older I become the more I love and appreciate the season of winter. Yet, it can be harsh and unrelenting to many. Just this morning my husband and I prayed for those in the wintry weather without warm fires, heat, hot coffee or food and adequate clothes and shelter. We are blessed and we must remember those who have suffered much. We were specifically thinking of those in Western Carolina area too.
Thank you for your reminding us through lovely poetry. Blessings!
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Oh, this is fantastic. And the bird! Everything.
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