Your Kingdom, Coming...A Spring Poem

I wrote this poem in April 2012.  The first stanza was inspired by my friend Holly's real-life moment with her daughter who was begging for milk even as it was being poured in front of her.  It was interesting to me that Holly was meeting her little girl's need, but there was tension as it hadn't arrived yet.  A winter-bare tree already holds all the makings of its spring glory.  Our Christ-committed hearts beat with the desire for Him to make everything beautiful and good, like heaven.  All of that is coming, and it's already alive in us through the Holy Spirit.

Your Kingdom, Coming

A child sits in a cushioned highchair,

Her face an impressionist painting of lunch.

“More milk, Mama,” she says,

Arm and hand stretched to receive.

“It’s coming, sweet girl,” Mama replies,

Grabbing the gallon jug.

“More milk, Mama,” insistently this time,

The arm and hand thrust out with emphasis.

“It’s coming, sweet girl,” is the unruffled refrain.

Mama pours, splashing drops on the counter.

“Mama! Milk!” with strains of desperation.

Screwing tight the plastic, spouted lid, Mama bends close to the tear-stained face,

“Here you go, sweet girl.”

A muffled “Thank you” escapes between eager gulps.

Mama wipes her child’s cheek.

A large, weathered tree stands bare.

Dull, ashen bark assimilates with a sky backdrop clinging to winter.

Vacant branches reach out, yearning,

 As if the tree knows it is meant to be clothed with blossoms and fruit.

Limbs asking for more,

When more has always been near.

Seeds in frozen ground,

Became green shoots in muddy soup.

Now, vibrant, purple crocuses cluster near sturdy roots,

Together, with a confident shout: “Spring is coming!”

Crocus-hope means that winter is not forever.

Things long hidden in soil come into light,

And blossoms will come,

Like pastel fireworks.

Pale pink never looked so bold.

O God,

Your kingdom is a reality for which I am waiting,

Asking.

I want better, I want more.

My soul knows it was created for a place,

With no more death, no more weeping.

Where I no longer need the sun,

Because You are my light.

I wait for that day, strengthened by the hope at my feet.

For I see Your kingdom here,

As people receive You in faith,

Bodies heal in Your Name,

And You breathe purpose into my own life.

So I stand with the faithful who have gone before me, Watching for You, dear Jesus,

To come.

Photo credit:  John Benson