This.
Is birdsong at dawn.

This.
Is the rich earth humming under foot.
Waking roots and teeming with life and the Mother’s love.

This.
Is the warm rain slipping, dripping down from the still bare branches.
Softening the earth and unlocking the keys to feed the roots,
And then the shoots.

This.
Is the warm sun that shines through the leafless trees to embrace the damp soil.
And coax the shoots up even higher,
Into the light to reveal their delicate beauty.

This.
Is the warm wind that gently stirs the dry leaves on the forest floor.
And caresses the stretching, reaching of the flower’s leaves as they unfurl before my eyes.

This.
Is a white Trillium in the woods.
Softly whispering that Spring is finally here.

This.
Is exquisite.

This is.

Image: Diane Perazzo, 2014

Image: Diane Perazzo, 2014