Springtime reminds me that I’m connected to the shifting seasons. When the first signs of spring start to show, a renewed sense of hope that I didn’t even know was there awakens too. It’s profound, really, like my internal world is eternally in harmony with the natural world. To celebrate this connection, I penned a spring poem that I hope captures the richness I’m sensing right now.
“Where is the dust that has not been alive?” — Edward Young, The Complaint: Or, Night-thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality (1742)
The above verse from Edward Young’s “Night Thoughts” hits my core—everything has its history in life. Even what seems to have no life is smack dab in the middle of a living world, as though inanimate objects, too, are reserved their time and place.
A rock becomes more than just a rock when we stay with the moment and feel the life sweep through us, the life that has touched everything and dwells everywhere. Even it reveals itself to be an essential piece of the puzzle.
Life leaves no stone unturned.
I guess what amazes me most is the permanence of everything. Yes, every thing has its moment and passes away, but then again if every thing is in a constant state of change, there’s still this sort of connection that underlies all things. There is Eternity.
Can life really have a clear and concrete end, or is it merely changing forms over and over again? What would a rock tell me about what it has seen in its lifetime (you know, if it could)?
These are things I wonder about when I let the dust settle and I commune with Mother Nature. I think about time and what it means.
Some essential part of me rejoices in this connective thread we call life, that brings everything together for a time, and then continues to assemble and reassemble various patterns with what seems like no end in mind.Eternity is a wonder-filled concept to think about, and the shifting seasons are a stark reminder that there’s wonder tucked into every fold of life. tweet this
In honor of the shifting seasons and the inspirited thoughts that nature plants in me, here’s a short spring poem that popped into my head the other day, in a particularly serene moment.
A Spring Poem
Do you ever wonder if the
Silence wants to be breathed into?
If the winds long to be seen?
I pause to watch the trees move
And I hear them speak instead—
A breeze conducting; leaves singing.
I stop to take it all in
And feel, rather, that
Life is the one breathing me.
I stop to be seen and heard by
She nurtures me here, in a newborn spring.
The rain washes the winter away and
The sun makes way for buds and hopes to bloom.
A bleak goodbye greets itself with a welcome.
A season never tires of its own desire
To see life anew.
I am still and wonder,
How could I be always new?
The winds have shifted and
The world changes color, but the
Life is the same.
The rivers are different but the
Water is the same.
Just as it enters, so
It shall leave.
And it comes back again as itself,
I watch the world and wonder at the
Greatest reason we are the same.
Nature shows me how to
Change into the truth,
Again and again—
Each season as true as the next;
Each discovery as ancient as the last.
Oh, the treasures a winter brings
To its spring.
How sweet it is to feel that something is
Both new and old.
The earth and sky love to rest and play and grow
Together; theirs is a dialogue of unity.
Pushing through the dirt and cold, the
Seedlings and I rise to greet the sun.
We remember that what is planted
Under a grateful sky belongs to
My heart grows too big
For my body;
The whole universe becomes my
For a while, I’ll stay,
At ease in the great abundance
That hurried eyes don’t see.
When you settle down and just sink into the natural world for a while, what kinds of things are you inspired to wonder about?
How do you like to be in nature, come springtime? Gardening, reading, walking, playing?
Share your favorite verse from this spring poem, or any curiosities or joy that nature sparks in you, with me in the comments.
Let yourself be moved by the stillness of the simple things.