Thorns

It has been the strangest of Holy Weeks , with no services and no gatherings. However this
unexpected interruption has left time and space for noticing and contemplating the beauty of
nature . One thing that struck me today was that , as the hedgerows begin to fill with greenery ,
the hawthorns are the first to blossom seasoning the hedgerows with beautiful white flowers .
The contrast of flower and thorn resonated with Easter celebrations and gave rise to this poem.

As a strange and unseen shadow slowly spreads

Encircling our lives with its fierce thorns
And pinning down our plans with its dark threads
The hawthorn in the hedgerow blooms with beauty

As pandemic presses pause on our affection

Keeping us away from those we love
And though painful separation means protection
The hawthorn in the hedgerow blooms with beauty

And in this moment of great dislocation

Where normal life has been turned on its head
Our minds turn to another separation
While the hawthorn in the hedgerow blooms with beauty

As darkness fell and fierce thorns decorated

As separation drew both blood and tears
He who is love, in love was isolated
And the hawthorn in the hedgerow blooms with beauty

Yet in those empty days of fear and sorrow

Where hope felt frail, another unexpected
Emptiness gave hope for all tomorrows
And the hawthorn in the hedgerow blooms with beauty

As the hawthorn in the hedgerow blooms with beauty

And the bright sun rises on another day
We find new strength in knowing absolutely
That even in the thorns life and love will always find a way

© Rich Clarkson 2020