This ground so bare, so beaten by winter
Suddenly sends up delicate green,
Then blue, then yellow and red, then white:
Secrets it was saving for us,
Wealth we didn’t know we had.
Who could believe in weary March
That the dun slope, bitten meadow,
And here by the house, border and bed
Would ever again be what they could be:
Flame, flame, wonderful, wordless—
Oh, but their stillness, the standing plants,
Oh, but their coolness, the burning blossoms,
Oh, but the miracle from nowhere,
Light out of darkness, gold out of poverty,
Blessing beyond any thinkable dream.
[Mark Van Doren]
How deep is our need to grow,
to reach out, to meet the promise of the newly-arrived spring.
There is an ecstasy within us
which carries us onward from this physical being
toward our awareness
of the great cosmic ocean in which we dwell with all,
and are blest.
There is a power at work in the world
which leads each human soul
to rise above its prison of desire and attachment,
and to soar in the freedom of a Love without limits.
There is a sacredness
deep within the beings of all of us,
when we discern that our lives, each one of them,
is its own precious work of art:
May each of us be guided by the voice
of the Holy Artist inside,
and glimpse our place in the Eternal Vision,
as we come to know, and cherish, and live
the mystery, the vitality, the wonder
of this unfinished masterpiece
which is the life of each one of us.