Spring: a tale
Spring, where does it come from?
No one really knows, but I imagine she hides in the mountains during the seasons she feels unwelcome.
And when the winds run from the west and the sun bursts from the east, it is then... TIME.
Thrusting herself upon the forgotten land, she would at last escape from her secret place.
To make herself known, she would spread across the earth, breathing life into all that was old and bitter from the winter's past.
To begin with, she had to muster up an ounce of courage, which was all it took for her to leap into the air! She dreamed of flying so often. All winter her thoughts drifted from her passion of soaring to her bitterness towards the confining hidden place where she lay dormant.
Wanting to give creation a zing, she leaned into the winds to soar. Slowly, she sank back to the ground.
Mustering all her strength, she tried once again to take to the air, but it was of no use.
It felt like an anchor had made a home in her chest and it wouldn't allow her to move.
A moment of doubt came... that flying again would only be a dream. She laughed, “I won't give up that easy!”
All that weighed her down would have to be given up, and then she would be free. With a shower of enthusiasm, her fears and doubts fled.
To the cheerless gray sky she took, and it melted into the most beautiful shade of blue!
The flowers sprang anew, basking in the crisp air and warmth of light.
The ground was found to be stubborn, not wanting the seeds for the harvest ahead to be planted. The earth seemed to roar at the thought of changing, but was won over in time.
The dullness of seasons passed, and colors became more vivid as they grinned with delight.
Creation danced and rejoiced, a celebration at its finest, with no soul resting.
Life burst forth once again, and even the stars drew closer to the earth, leaning in to hear the music it played.
A moment to be frozen in time and kept for all eternity.
When the hour came for her to say goodbye, her heart sank lower than the depths of the ocean. The warmth that once rushed through her softened into something quieter, something reflective.
She lingered in the fields she had awakened, listening to the echo of laughter in the trees and the fading chorus of birds in the sky.
She had found courage in what she couldn't change and hope in what she could.
Spring was more than a bearer of new beginnings.
Nestled into the great in-between of birth and death, she is the interlude that calls us on:
Live, rest, and see the world for all it could be!
