Sometimes life seemed to just stand still, like that moment when the waves rolled in and stopped before rushing back out to sea, like that hush just before the sun disappeared in its silent farewell each evening. Yes, life stood still. Karina felt like she was holding her breath. But the strange thing was, it was just her life that stood still. She could see everyone else around her thriving or stressing, whichever they chose, in their busyness. But not so with Karina. Her life wasn’t doing anything, wasn’t going anywhere, seemed to have fallen asleep.

At one time Karina would have been happy with this. Ah, yes, she would have enjoyed the quietness and the peace. But now she was ready for action, anxious with anticipation, and desperate when the sense of hopelessness seemed to overwhelm her.

All this she didn’t understand. She knew she was unhappy. She knew she was anxious. But that was about all.

Spring had come early that year, or winter had said goodbye sooner than expected. In any case, the crocuses, lilacs, and all the fruit trees had long since donned their flowers eventually letting them flutter to the ground. Spring rains had been steady. Green was leafing out the trees and carpeting the lawn. All the tiny spring creatures had been bustling around since the first hint of Spring. Ah, yes, Spring had come early.

Karina tried to take pleasure in it all, but deep within her heart was that haunting loneliness that curled within her very being. One day, she had vowed to herself, one day she would be free from it. But, she could not shake it now.

(Dear reader, you wonder, who this Karina is…well…I’m not sure. See, I’ve only just met her myself. Perhaps we will just see this glimpse into her life, or perhaps she will stop by again. But for now, content yourself with the knowledge that she spared you the time and gave you the vision of a little bit of her struggles.)

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The Gift of Spring

Spring flutters in

Flowers bloom in spendor

Creatures chatter with glee

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There’s a new baby in the pasture

And a new flower on the lawn.

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Tiny pictures of hope

Sent here for you and me

Handed by the Creator

A gift for those who see.

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(Yes, yes, I know my poetry’s aweful…if you can even call it poetry. But I’m not writing here to stun others with my brilliance. No, this is practice putting my fingers to the keypad and putting on this blog the stirrings of my heart, however ragged they may come across.)