Spring Calls

Spring came on forever,

Said the Chinese nightingale

Vachel Lindsay

I couldn’t stay in the house this afternoon.  White clouds were sailing past like galleons in a blue ocean.  Leaves called, illuminated by the strengthening sun.  Good-bye, computer.  Good-bye Facebook and Twitter.  Good-bye email.  Hello Spring!

Stepping into the unaccustomed brightness of the day, I gazed upon clumps of yellow daffodils and green buds folded in prayer.  Too, I noted the detritus of last year’s foliage on the Japanese maple, the flower stalks left in autumn for birds, and, over the lawn, spidery birch twigs winnowed by the wind.

Filled with energy and purpose, I found gloves and garden shears.  As I removed mats of withered gray leaves from the maple, I saw the tiny spears of what will be this year’s bounty.  So, with a philosophic turn of mind, I pondered how our lives can seem to resemble the seasons. Like trees and plants, we too must rid ourselves of outworn thoughts and ill-fitting opinions. Properly done, the process should reveal a new and better image of our developing selves.  We may no longer be twenty-one and full of life’s sap. (Yes, that’s a kind of joke)  If we have progressed into a richer maturity, we will, perhaps, better recognize the out-moded and useless, even while retaining what is treasured and lovely.

Then streaking through the sunny sky came the bouncing drops of a surprise shower.  Seeking refuge on the porch, I considered my roaming thoughts and let the joy of the day seep into me. A book read and loved in youth came to mind.  Bess Streeter Aldrich’s novel titled, Spring Came on Forever, and, of course, the Vachel Lindsay poem that inspired it.  Tears, clear and ephemeral, filled my eyes, and I murmured those words from long ago.

One thing I remember:

Spring came on forever,

Spring came on forever,

Said the Chinese nightingale.

Published in: on March 29, 2011 at 12:08 pm  Comments (4)  
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