Life in the land of 4 seasons is difficult this time of year. The warm air of spring warring with the cold air of winter leads to undefined storms.
Snowstorms become rain storms, as the winds of the seasons reverse time and the land is reborn. Blasting from the west and the south, the winds of change push away the storms of winter and escort in the new season of spring and my spirit awaits the sun breaking through the cold clouds. My soul tastes the rains as the wetness soaks the soil of my garden.
Every year, the spring is new, never aging, and always full of life and wonder.
Below heaven's sunlight, I am a child again, lost in the miracle of the seed. From the trees can be heard the robin serenading his new found paramour; out of the dirt can be felt the seed breaking the bonds of gravity as the tulip and the rose offer their beauty to the sun; across the air, I breathe in the fragrance of love and romance.
As long as my northern garden is made new in the season of spring, all things become new and love can restore the cold heart.
In my dreams, I call out to the comely handmaid of my dreams.
In the life of the seed, eternity is faithful.