Poetry Friday: A Gift of Spring

We had a lock down drill the other day.

Just in case.

Unlike the States, there is rarely a need here in our northern British Columbia school district, for a real lock down.

We are blessed. And we take blessings for granted.

As we hid in the library, among the ancient textbooks, it was like a bizarre game of hide-and-seek. The grade 12 boys were talking and singing softly in the dark—nerves? bravado? idiocy? ignorance? Just plain immaturity?

The door rattles. The girls jump. The boys continue looking at their phones (which should have been off). The vice-principal is making sure it is locked.

At last the all clear sounds.

The normal school day resumes.

My co-worker told me of a real lock down experience her class went through in the Lower Mainland. There was an incident across the street so the school was kept in for a few hours.

In our district there was an actual lock down a few years ago at a different school. A moose had wandered into the building. Everyone had to stay in place until the moose was no longer a threat. (And they look so nice from a distance!)

Beneath the lock down drills is the undercurrent of all the random shootings gone before. The joys and challenge of life suddenly taken out of the hands of so many. The tragedy and grief felt in the wake of their loss.

Yet, even in tragedy, flowers continue to bloom. Colour and sweet scent and ordered beauty to bring solace to the grief-stricken, the ill and the oppressed.

Here are some lilacs to say “I’m thinking of you”.

Linda has the roundup at  A Word Edgewise