Every new leaf I see at the moment excites me. Especially those on the apple tree in our garden, because I thought we’d probably killed the tree with over-zealous pruning in Autumn. I was studying that tree every day last month, and it took what seemed an age to produce just one little bit of green.

I’m so grateful that Spring is here at long last that I’m even waxing lyrical and writing poems.  When I was younger I recited poems in speech and drama competitions around New Zealand and the poem I’ve just written (see below) is inspired by one of my favourite poems back then :

Outside the plasma supermarket, I reach out my hand to the shopper and say, “Can I give you one of these?” I give each of them a leaf from a tree.

The first shopper thanks me.  The second puts his leaf in his coat pocket where his wife won’t see… The fourth says “Is it art?” I say that it is a leaf…

(from my memory of the poem “Leaflets” by Adrian Mitchell )

What have I got to offer you that I can reach out with my hand?  “Can I give you one of these?” I have a word.

Admittedly a word doesn’t seem much in proportion to the needs in the world.  But, like a tree offers a brand new leaf to give the world oxygen, this word has a potential of exponential impact. It is more expansive than the space it takes up on this screen.

Grace

……………………

A Word as Leaf

Hello Leaf!
Exquisite you. Attached to tree, you are alive, colour-growing in season, you season.
As my words leave – I wonder
Are my words leaves? Each one is sprung new-green
Like it’s freshly-April each day.Each leaf appears, a gift to ponder.

Hello Leaves!

I imagine me, A tree! Or best, I plant trees freely
Form my native-me-forest so there God and I may spirit-join to brood and hover
We filter through the Leaflets enjoying the shade
discovering gently moving shadow forms
Best-sought dappling light
Grace is allowed through this canopy.

But is it?
Is there even any space between my ears and the ears of others?
Any space between my Leaves?
Space for all of us on earth
To pause? Selah.

Relax Jane, it’s gift.
Here’s oxygen from Leaves to breathe.

Above, a bird streaks, soaking rays.
(Dare I form the words?)
Come, bird! Perch.