Category: Spring 2024

As if the angels had carpeted their floor
with the woolly pelts of spring lambs, thick clouds
covered the sky. In the valley below, cattle,
free at last from the dark of their winter barn,
grazed on fresh grass, glad for the gifts
of the rain. April showers. Yes, let it be.
In May we shall have magnificent gardens.

For all who have weathered winter’s storms
and struggled against its darkness,
for those whose faith is flagging
and whose hope has grown thin,
for those who have lost sight
of the world’s enduring beauty
and forgotten the grace of the Yes,
let there be lilacs.

These are the faces of triumph,
of “We Did It!” and of joy.
These are the colors of Yes
painting the portrait of spring,
welcoming it with such gladness
that even the dirt laughs.
Oh, little ones, if you only knew
the power of your shining
to bless with elation every eye
lucky enough to see you bloom.

The rain came today, softly
and smelling of spring. Still,
the birds sang, and on the buds
of a flowering quince a wee worm
posed. In the rain’s quiet light
the world seems such a tender place,
delicate, and deserving
of all the care that we can give.

The red-fingered hands of bleeding hearts
reach up for the pearls of rain that scatter
themselves on its baby leaves, the ones
that survived and revived after the days
of deep cold. To them, it’s as if the threat
never happened, as if life itself wasn’t
hanging in the balance. Birth pains;
nothing more, a small price to pay
for the privilege of standing here
in this wondrous world, listening
to birdsong and the splash of falling rain.

The Yes, whose merest spark of thought
creates vast worlds within worlds,
whose living laughter flows endlessly
between and around and within them,
whose joy knows no bounds,
whose forces flow in our blood,
whose light sings in our souls—
that Yes—sits here, right here,
in the midst of this moment in Spring.

(A Happiness Tale I found from 2012. I couldn’t resist sharing it with you.)

One midnight, somewhere near the first full day of spring, the Joy Giant goes walking.

He’s huge, old J.G. Taller than the tallest trees. And his feet are enormous, ‘though he’s lighter than air.

He’s invisible to humans. But dogs can see him, mainly because their hearts are filled with the same kind of happiness as his. Little children can see him, too; but only in their dreams, and he never scares them.

Sometimes he pauses outside the homes where dogs or children live, stoops down and looks in their windows, softly chuckling at their sweetness.

He walks all over the place, just to celebrate spring. You can tell when he’s passed by. Yellow forsythia bloom in his tracks, echoing his laughter.

Now come the rains, the cleansing spring rains,
softening the soil, rousing the waking seeds.
Let the shoots rise. Let the buds release
their leaves and flowers. Let the sun
unfurl its rainbows in the fresh, blue sky.

Now come the rains, the singing rains,
gliding down the tree trunks, pouring
puddles on the streets, filling lakes,
feeding ponds, washing winter’s sleep
from the world’s eyes, and all the while
thundering its life-giving song.

Now come the rains. Give thanks,
and let your heart rise in gladness
for the advent of Spring, for the
cleansing, softening, greening rain,
and for its mighty song.

“Hey!” They shouted in their loud yellow voices.
I had seen them as I whizzed past, but I saw them
as if I’d seen them a hundred times before and not,
as was truly the case, for the very first time this year,

“Hey! You! Hey!” As soon as their call reached me,
I stopped the car, backed up, pulled over and leaped out.
“Hello! Hello!” I sang to them. “You are so beautiful!”

They stood there, beaming, glad someone noticed.
pretending they didn’t care if anyone saw them at all.
But their gladness betrayed them. They wiggled with joy
and proudly posed when I asked to take their picture.

The wonder isn’t so much the way
that forsythia blossoms in spring,
their yellow stars tumbling like clowns
by the hundreds, making something
inside of you smile. It’s that this group
of atoms sees that group as flowers
and that smiles can happen at all.