This week the welcome sound of singing down spouts heralded the melting of last week’s blizzard. Only a few patches of snow are left in shady places. The ground is completely saturated around our new greenhouse so that water is seeping into my otherwise winter free area. I had to delay my cardboard floor construction plans in order not cover the wet areas and so encourage mold ahead of season. Oh, well. I sincerely hope that this water seepage is an unusual event! I shall find out in the coming months.
Going back to the great snow, I was doing my lectio (monastic contemplative reading of Scripture) at dawn in my cell and heard a single bird begin to sing. All the ground was white with winter, and here was a little, feisty harbinger of spring, greeting the rising sun. Oh, to have a heart full of hope that impels one to sing despite the ravages of suffering! This is what our faith should give to us. Spring is coming! The eternal spring of heaven will be ours after the winter of this life’s pain and disappointments. A poem to commemorate the event:
A lone call sprang
Across the fallen snow.
A single seeing bird sang
To morning’s rising glow.
The full and futile moon,
Sank in silent west,
While east a springing love tuneWarms one small breast.