I’ve said before and I’ll say it again: I’m no poetry expert, but religious poetry leaves me cold. It’s either so intellectual as to be impregnable (Gerard Manley Hopkins or G.K. Chesterton) or sappy and sentimental to the point of doggerel (just about everyone else).
So today, on this beautiful spring day when Christians around the world celebrate Jesus’ rising from the dead, I offer this poem about the season that’s only now starting to truly flex its muscles.
Though I’m not convinced the poem says anything other than what is on its surface (nor does it need to), I feel the poet, A.R. Ammons, in calling it “Resurrections” is making reference to Easter, which comes around every spring. Or maybe he’s commemorating the more pedestrian returning to life a fine spring day brings. Or maybe he’s just explaining to his wife why he’s not going to clear the winter’s debris from the flower beds.
However you interpret it, enjoy. And happy resurrections, whatever type they may be.