I glance out my window at the crabapple tree. I wait all winter for it to burst into bloom. I watch the bright pink buds pop and the blossoms unfurl. But it’s all lasted this spring for only a brief breath, and already in the rain and chill of this week, the blooms have faded, and petals litter the yard.
The Psalmist reminds us that our lives too, are but a breath, “for they quickly pass, and we fly away.” (Psalm 90:10, NIV)
Too often we rush time, waiting for and counting on the next thing instead of sinking into the present moment, paying attention to each breath. Instead of shushing ourselves to hear God, to sense creation’s kiss and the Spirit’s embrace.
I’ve been waking up earlier these days–another perk of spring when the light tiptoes onto my pillow. I love listening for the first bird’s cheep and seeing the sun blush in the east.
Morning is my best quiet time.
Dave Harrity agrees. ” . . . you miss a peace when you sleep through the morning.” he writes in Making Manifest: On Faith, Creativity, and the Kingdom at Hand. “Yes, sleeping is peaceful, but it’s a passive peace–you don’t chose it, you don’t experience it–you live through it, unable to acknowledge the moments it fills. But the quiet of the morning is peace that you live in. As Christ is in this world, he’s in this place. He’s in it everywhere–in the ever-expanding space above you, the tiniest ticking from the clock, the coughs and creaks of this space settling.”
I don’t want to sleep through any God-kissed, pink-petaled moments.
I want to cup each one with my words–with poetry.
One of our assignments this week was to write about our first kiss, and I remembered a fourth-grade peck on the cheek. But our day-14 assignment was to again go back through all our week’s notes,to cull some stand-out words and phrases, to look for “threads to pull.” Again, we were asked to create a ten-line poem, but this time it needed to include at least three similes–one of which had to be about kissing. And I remembered yet another kiss.
Kissed
Memories fade fast like the crabapple blossoms on my favorite tree.
But it’s raining pink petals that swirl and twirl like a lovers’ dance,
and the breeze carries me back to the Waterfall where I order a shrimp salad
because he wears a suit to work, and his parents drive a Mercedes,
and it seems extravagant. And when the music stops, after we dance,
he presses me to his chest for just the pinch of a moment.
A balloon inflates in the pit of my stomach.
I turn my face toward heaven, and a
a petal’s damp, velvet lip brushes my cheek
like that first shy kiss at my apartment door.
Note: I married that “kisser” six months later, 42-1/2 years ago.
In the stillness,
Sandy
Now it’s your turn. If you’re journeying through Making Manifest this month, feel free to link up a post below. If not, maybe you’d like to share your day-14 poem in the comments.
And here are a couple questions for everyone:
Is it possible that the act of kissing might help us to understand God in a unique way? Why or why not?
Describe a recent God-kissed moment.
Memories do fade. Maybe the the memories on top go first before the deep memories of love inflating within like a ballon. I just couldn’t get my “kiss poem” to leave it’s lipstick print upon the page. Maybe another day.
Do memories really ‘fade’? Or do they just get layered over and tucked away? For me, since his death, the memories return, in soft tender moments of joy forgotten. His first brush of a kiss on my cheek, then softly on my lips…..I think I now know where my ‘Kiss Poem’ is leading me. I too have put it off to wait until it jumped at me…..you ‘opened’ my door to the memory. But hank you!
Perhaps we’ve lived with those earlier memories so long, we’ve tucked them away… layered them as Bonnie says. Maybe they’ll reappear as we grow older. When my father-in-law was evaluated in his later years, it seems the doctors explained he could remember things from way back better than yesterday because he had lived so long and had so many memories. (Maybe there wasn’t much room for more.) That there was probably an awful lot he’d forgotten, or layered away because he had so much to remember.
Oh, I just love this.
I was gardening this week and stood beneath the crabapple tree near our front door and the honeybees whizzed and sang and stilled me. I couldn’t see them darting as they were in the clouds of pink above my head but I sank in the moment of the sunshine and pinkly dropping petals and the song of bees. I’m happy you wrote it into a kiss story – the perfect thing to do.
That’s beautiful, Alyssa. I don’t remember the orioles in the tree at all last year. But there were lots of bees. This year, I don’t remember seeing bees… but there were lots of orioles dancing and singing in that tree.
I love this post.
And believe it or not I was reading about kissing in today’s Wall Street Journal!
😀
Another moment to breathe deep the gathering blooms…
Just keep breathing. Just keep breathing…
Lovely, Sandy. Maybe I’ll blog about this journey this week . . .
I hope so. I guess I better get over to your place and see if you have yet. 🙂
Sandra,
Just gorgeous…I’m swooning over your photos and poem 🙂
Thank you, Dolly.
I loved this, Sandy! I’ve never enjoyed getting up in the morning as much as I have the past 15 days. No more snooze button. As soon as my eyes open, I know I’m off to meet with God – to make manifest! I don’t want to sleep through any God-kissed, pink-petaled moments either. Thank you for sharing your beautiful photographs and the story of that first sweet kiss with your husband! An all-together lovely post. 🙂
Love this, Tarissa. Since I worked my way through L.L. Barkat’s book, God in the Yard, I feel like I’m missing something if I sleep in.
“I don’t want to sleep through any God-kissed, pink-petaled moments . . .”
Just after I read this post, my daughter arrived and began showing me photos of our granddaughter, Savannah, who is still in the hospital with some complications; no worries, she will be fine! But, oh, what a pink-petaled moment it was to see this child’s perfect little face!
Yes, we need to rise and shine, ready to greet the moments God has in store for us, with open eyes, ears, and hearts.
Blessings, Sandy!
I’m so glad she’s doing better, Martha. And now I’m thinking of rosy pink baby lips. 🙂
This is so good, Sandy! I’ve never written about a kiss. And kissing is such an odd business, don’t you think? I’m thinking of the way it grosses out younger kids. But at some point, you grow up a little and embrace the grossness and it’s no longer gross–it’s wonderful.
It is odd. We should study its history sometime. And do Eskimos really kiss with their noses? What if they’re dripping from the cold?
So sweet, lovely, a beautiful remembrance.
Just the idea of “kiss” made me also think of these quotations about the Kiss of God, and I thought I woudl share:
“Let us not suppose ecstasy is ruled out for ordinary people like ourselves. It is not as though we had invented it, or as though we had written the rules. The Lord seizes us suddenly with a quick burst of affection. His power flows to us. He sweeps us up. Everything else stands still for a kiss that is passionate, tender, demanding. In anticipation of this kiss, whole lives are altered and overturned. In the aftermath of this kiss, destinies and ambitions and careers are discarded like old pairs of gloves. This is a sign of love in which there is no disenchantment, no chance of boredom, no ultimate letdown. All is climax. This kiss is the pledge of a union that feeds and heals us, clothes and shelters us, that makes us Christ.=” —Emily Griffin
“God created people very good. God not only needed to speak, but to bring His image alive in humanity, He needed to breathe His life directly into our lungs. The description could not be more intimate or personal: “The Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being” (Gen. 2:7). Our story begins with a kiss, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, God pressing against us. We begin when God exhales and we inhale. This is the level of intimacy and synchroneity for which we were always intended.” —Erwin McManus
Lynn – these are both fabulous quotes!! I’m copying them into my way-too-long ‘quotes worth saving’ document. Thanks so much.
Aren’t they great, Diana? I h ad to smile about your file. I have one of those too! Happy quoting.
Fondly,
Lynn
“Our story begins with a kiss, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, God pressing against us. We begin when God exhales and we inhale.” Swoon.