In an email of Joan Chittister's offerings that I receive weekly (she's a very wise and outspoken Roman Catholic woman) was this poem, which echoes my feelings about noticing all that is:
I want to be ever a child
I want to feel an eternal friendship
for the raindrops, the flowers,
the insects, the snowflakes.
I want to be keenly interested in everything,
with mind and muscle ever alert,
forgetting my troubles in the next moment.
The stars and the sea, the ponds and the trees,
the birds and the animals, are my comrades.
Though my muscles may stiffen, though my skin may
wrinkle, may I never find myself yawning
— Toyohiko Kagawa
(Songs from the Slums, trans. by Lois Erickson)
It's spring and that seems to open up any number of opportunities for inspiration. My camera has been repaired (it was not working for a while and I felt as though one of my arms was missing), and I am walking around and taking in a lot of what the earth has to offer. It is a time of rebirth for trees, shrubs, perennials. Recently I have not been personally or spiritually reflecting the newness of the season. I hope something is stirring deep inside, waiting, or pushing through, to be born anew.
There is a lot going on around me however. Last week I took a picture of a blossom on a maple tree. It is the birthing of maple leaves - oh yes, and of those winged helicopters that I'll have to be raking up too. Today I checked the robin's nest out back - there are now two eggs.
Nature will not be held back - new life is in process. What's being born in you?