Whatshot
Through my eyes
Through my eyes
Date: 2019-09-06
Yet another Spring has sprung upon usthe weather has been so glorious, fresh and moderate. This truly is the perfect time of the year. New beginnings. A fresh start, a new hope. The word "spring" reminds us of greenery, freshness and optimism; a new burst of well-being. Spring has much to do with the literal emergence from a cold, wintry space into a fresh, bright and greener place. But is that all there is to it
As the sun begins to climb higher in the sky heralding the beginning of longer days and inviting the green spirals of new blooms and leaves to burst forth from their winter sleep, I too am feeling drawn out into the light, rising to join the new life that is beginning to stir with a deep vigour that is the coming of summer.
There is nothing better than waking up early enough to watch the sunrise and to greet morning sunfacing the beginning of a new day. It is days like these that make me spring into poetry, I want to consume the words, swallow them whole and let them pass through my innards.
There is something almost magical that invites us out of the darkness of winter and into the light of spring, that ever-promises the joys and delights of summertime. It is days like these that keep me excited, motivated and reinvigorated.
As we move into a new season, there's an opportunity to reflect on the new times ahead, remembering that gratitude is the attitude, believing that the new season will carry new hope into our worldwith that I would like to leave you with one of my favourite poems by American poet, Robert Frost. Wishing all of you a Happy Spring.
A Prayer in Spring
Robert Frost- 1874-1963
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.