BLESSED BY SPRING’S INSPIRATION and my poem, LISTENING FOR SPRING
BLESSED BY SPRING’S INSPIRATION and my poem, LISTENING FOR SPRING: Stepping outside this morning around sunrise was so lovely, enlivening. The “spring thing” feeling in the air, subtle, yet palpable, encouraging me with thoughts of possibilities and new beginnings. Cool temps stimulate, yet hint at approaching warmness. The sun seems especially bright after yesterday’s dark clouds and torrential downpours.
That special morning spring light shining off the dew, with new grass and other tiny excited plants coming up. A few trees just begin to show their small intense green leaves, while most are still sleeping, but telling us they know their time is coming soon. The first robins showed up two weeks ago, while the crows come daily for leftover prasad.
In a hurry, running off to work, you might miss it, or if you did sense it, you could easily forget about it in the stress of the day. Krishna’s or God’s Material Nature—his “separated energy” no less—is so amazing. As I have written about before, living in the country can really change one and give a new awareness, like the wonder of sight after being blind. One slows down, or at least that happened to me, as I have never been a passionate person—as I shared yesterday, in good and problematic ways.
However, today, I am stressing the positive aspect of the mode/quality/energy of goodness which colors one’s perception, as would the other “gunas,” of ignorance and passion. These energies all have their place in the world. Every material thing or aspect of life is influenced by these gunas which means the ropes which intertwin to bind us conditioned souls.
I thought about how eventually such scenic environments will be completely destroyed in this age, and the populations will be pygmy caveman-like humans—at least according to the Vedic scripture, Shrimad Bhagavatam. Technology is a double-edged sword which is accelerating pollution, destruction, and pestilence, or can help end it. Everything depends on the consciousness of the people, either running the world and commerce, and those who will influence them.
Will today’s generations be able to postpone environmental destruction by industry or war? That is part of our test as human beings, and some deep spiritual stewardship would have to be widely spread to ensure it lasts for some generations. As I, and many of us feel saddened or outraged at the pace of destruction of forests and natural habitat, I also know that for the light to emerge, there much be darkness.
Whatever you think of Mr. Trump, he is in some ways a unifier of those whose causes he seems intent on trampling on. Thus, we can actually thank him for waking up people to their responsibility to be stewards of the Earth and insure that each future generation inherits a harmonious world based on sustainable economies.
Walking to my favorite secluded spot,
down the steep hill by the stream,
to listen—or try to listen—
to spring’s whispered awakening:
the early bulbs blooming,
some trees budding,
creating a certain scent
in the air. It’s a subtle feeling.
I take my seat,
retrieve my journal and pen,
and, as if on cue, the crows
also arrive, cawing noisily
up the ridge, flying from tree to tree.
It seems they have no purpose
except to distract and test me.
What can I do but smile?
Admittedly, their cawing isn’t pleasing
to my ear and their forms
aren’t aesthetically uplifting.
My tendency is to be annoyed.
I have to let go of that,
though they are not my favorite.
I remember them in trash heaps.
They’re the Bhagavata’s example
of the lowly, the opposite of the swan.
Yet, every creature has its place
in Krishna’s world—like it or not!
At this point in the poem,
they are gone. With the returning quiet
of the forest come more subtle sounds,
near and far: frogs splashing downstream
at the pond, dogs barking somewhere,
muffled in the distance,
a car roaring farther away.
The threatening dark clouds above
make good on their potential,
bringing slow raindrops.
The rush of the wind announces
it may be a downpour.
This time of year is unpredictable!
My umbrella goes up.
I’m hoping to wait out the storm.
Now, with only the rain’s sound,
I try to keep dry, surrounded by wind
that chills my hands and face.
I smell wet leaves
and the stream’s speed increases.
Oh, the simple pleasures in life.
In nature, without new styles,
we only have to show up
with our desire, attention,
and curious eyes.
So much can be learned—
never boring, always something
new to discover (without or within)!
As suddenly as it came,
the rain abates.
Now, there’s only the sound
of drops from branches
and the soft, indirect light
coming through the clouds—
heightening the moss’s green,
contrasting with the grey
and brown of bare trees,
drawing attention to the bark
so varied in texture.
Soon, spring’s full force
will paint the forest
in that special, intense spring green—
Krishna says I am spring!