My older daughter is almost six, and it seems like the rising sap and rush of spring have filled her to almost bursting this time around. She wakes with a palpable feeling of excitement and longing – to be one with all that is happening – and there is so much happening! The bat is back roosting outside our bedroom window, a winter wren sings in fast-forward, the sun rises orange behind the trees, winged carpenter ants are emerging in horrifying numbers from every cranny of our log cabin, crocuses, a new one each hour, and each must be inspected and shared and contemplated in words and mood. 

This morning we uncovered the rhubarb and saw – YES! crumply little leaves waiting to unfold. This is my dear daughter, fully alert, full of questions and longing to merge with the very life of life (as in the classic victorian poem “Look to this day: For it is life, the very life of life . . .”).

Spring is a time for softening and opening. For washing clean so we can see old beauty anew with fresh eyes. To let the timeless rhythms of earth and sky infuse our own blood and bones.

We too can emerge out of the muck, singing, peeping and blooming.

My friend Julie brought “The Bird Song” (by Heather Masse) to our women’s singing circle the other night. It was an instant hit with my daughter, and I love hearing her thin clear voice chirping these words as she exuberantly bustles through these full spring days:

I hear a bird chirping up in the sky,
I’d like to be free like that, spread my wings so high.
I see the river flowing, water running by,
I’d like to be that river, see what I might find.
I feel the wind a-blowing, slowing changing time,
I’d like to be that wind, I’d swirl and shape the sky.
I smell the flowers blooming, opening for spring,
I’d like to be those flowers, open to everything.

I feel the seasons change: the leaves, the snow and sun.
I’d like to be those seasons, made up and undone.
I taste the living earth, the seeds that grow within,
I’d like to be that earth, a home where life begins.
I see the moon a-rising, reaching into night,
I’d like to be that moon, a knowing, glowing light.
I know the silence as the world begins to wake,
I’d like to be that silence as the morning breaks.

(And yes, this Spring’s Spring Cleanse is going to be all about finding our place in nature’s grand dance. Together we will emerge out of the muck, singing, peeping and blooming!)

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