May is the fifth month of the Gregorian calendar with 31 days, marking the peak of spring in the Northern Hemisphere and autumn in the Southern Hemisphere. It is named after the Roman goddess Maia,

 symbolizing fertility, growth, and the nurturing by and for the earth.  May features major holidays like Memorial Day ( the last Monday in May), Mother’s Day (second Sunday), and Cinco de Mayo (May 5th).  It is also Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month.With all of the beauty surrounding us this time of year, I find it extremely difficult and frustating to see that our country is at war halfway around the world—again. Once again the earth groans as she absorbs the blasts of more

 missiles and so called “smart bombs.” It would appear that the lesson we human beings learn from history is that we don’t really learn from history.

Thus the choice of one of the poems below. 

There Will Come Soft Rains

Sara Teasdale 1884 –1933 (War Time)

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

May Flowers

The May flowers are the creatures of spring,
Dripped upon by a leaking faucet,
Hiding shyly,
Waiting for the sun to come out,
They are the children of the earth,
Nurtured by the rain and the light,
They are the promise of a new day,
A reminder of the cycle of life. 

The May flowers are the memories of the past,
Tucked away in the corner of my mind,
Like a flower pressed in a book,
Waiting for someone to find them,
They are the scent of a summer day,
A reminder of the joy and the pain,
They are the beauty of a fleeting moment,
A memory that will never fade.