seasons – sethlewis.ie

Dappled Glory (a poem)

Our world is full of wonderful things, and life here is brightened with moments of grace and happiness so powerful it almost hurts. And then they pass. Like sunlight through the leaves, these moments cannot last, but our longing for more directs our hearts upward, to where these glories come from. That’s what I was thinking about when I wrote this poem.

Dappled Glory

There’s a kind of beauty that
makes the heart ache
that makes the heart long
that makes the heart break
to be bigger and wider
and stronger to take
in the glory
of one single
moment

There’s a kind of summer
that makes the heart sing
and still
somehow
you miss the spring
and long for autumn
as wonders move
like sun-beams
across the grass—
dropping dappled glory
as they pass

Winter Walk (a poem)

I put my hands inside my sleeves
And stuff them in my pockets
My collar up against the wind
Is not enough to block it
But as my nose and ears complain
Of slowly freezing
In my brain
My thoughts are getting warmer
And more active with each step
This wind has fanned the flame—
Yes even frozen wind—and swept
My thoughts into a blaze
And I’m aware that if I kept
My body locked
Behind the glaze
In perfect comfort
All my days
That there my mind
Would rest in ease—
And in that warmth
Would slowly
Freeze

Tree House (a poem)

Tomorrow, my wife Jessica and I celebrate twenty years of marriage. Two decades sounds like a lot to me, but—doesn’t everyone say this?—it seems like it’s gone quickly. When we first got married, I wrote a poem for Jessica about how our love was in Spring, and I didn’t know what seasons would come, but with God’s help we would keep growing through them all. Twenty years—and many different seasons—later we’ve made our home in this growing love. That’s what this poem is about:

Hot And Cold (a poem)

Thanksgiving is an American tradition that our family will never, ever give up. The feast is amazing, but so is the logic: a holiday especially made for giving thanks! You have to give the pilgrims credit: they were clever. Giving thanks is one of the healthiest, happiest things you could ever do. Not just with a feast, and not just on the fourth Thursday in November—it’s a habit that can reshape our perspectives and grow contentment in our hearts all year long. That’s what this poem is about: