Listening to Spring

How quietly the earth breathes forth new life.
How eagerly the sun bleeds forth the spring,

I am listening.
I am listening to the seeds breaking open,

to roots growing strong beneath the ground,
to green shoots rising up from winter wombs.

I am listening to thorns blossoming,

to barren branches laughing out new growth,
to wildflowers dancing through the meadows.

I am listening
I am listening to the forest filling up with song.
I am listening to the earth filling up with life.
I am listening to the trees filling up with leaves.

I am listening.
I am listening to the sky with its many changing moods,

to flashes of lightning, peals of thunder,
to opening buds and greening grass.

I am listening to the breaking forth of light
in the vestibule of dawn.
I am listening to the freshness of the morning.

I am listening.
I am listening to the rain drops

giving hope to thirsty gardens.

I am lsitening to the orchards

pregnant with new life.

I am listening to the flowers

bursting forth in rainbow colors.

I am listening.

I am listening to the brook,

to the song of happy waters.

I am listening to music

rising up from all the earth.

I am listening to spring

soaring in on wings of life.

I am listening to the sounds of spring.

I am listening.
I am listening to prayers

pouring forth from feathered throats.

I am listening to prayers

rising up from misty waters.

I am listening to prayers

of a meadow crowned with dawn.

I am listening.
I am listening to the growing

in the garden of my heart.

I am listening to my heart

singing songs of resurrection.

I am listening to the colors of life.

I a listening.
I am listening to winter

handing over spring.

I am listening to the poetry of spring.
I am listening.

— Macrina Wiederkehr, The Circle of Life by Joyce Rupp, Macrina Wiederkehr