At 92, Luci Shaw’s zest for life is contagious. The poet and writer is still discovering, still creating — daily. On the podcast this week, Nathan asked, ​“Could you read us a poem from your book?”

“Yes!” beamed Luci. Then like a child eager to show off a freshly colored page, she offered, ​“Or I could read you a poem I wrote yesterday.”

Nate replied as anyone with a heartbeat would: ​“I’d love that.”

“This day… this springy day,” Luci began, as if she’d never seen the sun before, as if the world was just created this morning.

Several stanzas later she concluded:

Pollen,
Though it may be an affliction,
Promotes new life
And the cherry trees exploding
With their frothy pink blossoms.
It is all joy,
All gratitude,
All grace.

By your tenth decade, life has provided plenty to complain about: pain, sickness, injustice; the disappearance of moral knowledge and the decay of your own teeth; family and friends crossing Jordan ahead of you.

That’s a lot of mud one could get stuck in. But here’s Luci, like a potter, turning mud into masterpieces. Here’s Luci, like a bee, turning pollen into poetry. (Hey, that rhymed.) 

Father, forgive us for becoming experts in spotting what’s wrong. Help us see the world clearly, not with Pollyanna naïveté but with childlike wonder and prophetic hope.