By Awara Fernandez

I have been thinking of fruitfulness as we age, and pondering the poem “Nature’s first green is gold” by Robert Frost:

Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.  So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

My family has loved this poem and returned to it over and over again throughout the years of graduations, weddings, births, and deaths that mark our lives. Frost’s poem is a bit melancholic, and I remember C. S. Lewis saying that, “eternal springtime is never allowed.”  But, what if we reassessed this idea so that it would reflect what is true, not Under the Sun, but moving from ephemeral to eternal?

Nature's last green is gray, As youth and strength give way.
First sap runs just an hour; So nascent works may flower.
Then days descend through years, New Eden drawing near.
So age soars towards that Day!  Only gold can stay.

(1 Corinthians 3:12-15)

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