When after the Winter alarmin',
The Spring steps in so charmin',
So fresh and arch
In the middle of March,
Wid her hand St. Patrick's arm on...
~Alfred Percival GravesAfter a week of mixed snow and rain, March wiped her nose, dried her eyes, and broke into a magnificent smile. Oh, well maybe that was me, but the sun definitely broke through. The promise of Spring lured me out the top o' that morning, even with a crispness still in the air. Out to catch the arrival in action, even though I knew I never could, and there were bits an' pieces of it scattered all over.
Here were deep purple crocuses ready to burst open, and I sensed an excitement that was hard to explain. Some things are better kept to oneself, perhaps.
Vision is the art of seeing things invisible
Scattered about were primroses already abloom, with a subtle hint of intrigue which I couldn't quite put my finger on. What is it about them, that warms my heart so?
Small daffodils nodded their buttery heads amidst the brown of last year's leaves strewn asunder. Unsettling, is what it was - that feeling of some invisible presence.
The world is seldom what it seems;
to man, who dimly sees,
realities appear as dreams,
and dreams realities.
Rich colors caught my attention and pulled me to the woods where branches lush with lichens and rocks matted with mosses shouted "Look here, no here, look everywhere - there is a stirring in the air!"
It is not the sort of thing that you can capture and hold in your hand - not a thing to plainly show others and say "Look, I found Spring and here it is."
No, it's not that sort of thing at all... Still, there is something about buds building toward the bursting point that makes you want to shout out loud. And laugh - laugh long and hard that winter is almost over and you survived it, yet again...
Laughter is wine for the soul --
laugh soft, or loud and deep,
tinged through with seriousness.
Comedy and tragedy step through life together,
arm in arm...
Once we can laugh, we can live.
Something spoke to me - blew in my ear, whispered on the wind, transported me to another place and time - turned me upside down and inside out.
There was a place in childhood
that I remember well,
And there a voice of sweetest tone
bright fairy tales did tell.
Some primeval power grasped me by the heart and would not let me go... until - in spite of myself - a smile crept in. I rolled in the green, absorbed the sun, drank the rain, filled myself to the brim with new life.
I ate the day deliberately,
that its tang might quicken me all into verb,
It is an ancient urging, this need to come through the night into the day; to crawl out of the den and stretch; to look around at the world and see that it has changed - or know that I have.
Where I am not understood,
it shall be concluded that something
very useful and profound
is couched underneath.
May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.
May your home be bright with cheer,
May your cares all disappear,
May contentment come your way,
And may laughter fill your day.