"Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring"

"Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring"
by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)

Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring,
And all the flowers that in the springtime grow,
And dusty roads, and thistles, and the slow
Rising of the round moon, all throats that sing
The summer through, and each departing wing,
And all the nests that the bared branches show,
And all winds that in any weather blow,
And all the storms that the four seasons bring.
You go no more on your exultant feet
Up paths that only mist and morning knew,
Or watch the wind, or listen to the beat
Of a bird's wings too high in air to view,--
But you were something more than young and sweet
And fair,--and the long year remembers you.

It's days like today, a warm sunshine laden earth after too much rain and cold and clouds, that reminds me of how grateful I am just to be alive. Though I'm exhausted and worn out from school and everything, I so much appreciate the wonderful gift that nature is. I hope to always remember how it feels to sit outside in the springtime and in the sunshine and just be. Not do anything but apprecaite the warmth of the sun on my skin and the birds singing in the trees and the happy bugs flying about.

This poem is about just that too. It's about being grateful for the little things in life, not even things that we have been outright given by others nor the things we have acquired for ourselves, but the simplicities of each day, storms, and seasons, and nature, and dust. It all combines and works together in an intricate, delicate way to form the lives that we live, the beautiful lives that we live, so we ought to be appreciative and praiseful. We have no reason not to be. The earth IS "young and sweet and fair" and we can get great joy from celebrating that.

This morning on my way walking from the parking lot to the gym, I happened to see on my right side a tiny little dandelion, smaller than any I had ever seen before in my life. It was only maybe an eigth of the size of a normal dandelion, but still was fully grown, with all those littly wispy white things placed perfectly in a circle. I picked it and took a breath and exhaled and set those petals free, whirling like in a tornado around me. It was incredibly beautiful and one of those things that just can't be described in words. But it did put a wide smile on my face out of sheer delight for nature's pleasures.

Photo: "Under a country sky we grow" by Susannah Tucker

(for more of her work check out: http://www.etsy.com/shop/susannahtucker)

Nothing left to hide.

"You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

When it comes down to it, I hope and pray that I can be a light to the world. That through my actions, my words, my demeanor, my smile, my ideals, I can leave the world a bit brighter than it would have been without me. Isn't that what we all want? If so, that why don't we act like it? I know I sure don't always smile, say kind words, give hugs when I should. But why not? What's stopping us? Fear? Denial? Judgement? But what's more powerful than all of those? Harmony. Peace. Kindness. Understanding. LOVE.

Here's a link for a beautiful song. A bit depressing and somber, but this is true feelings. It hits your heart for sure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FUzDMDmHOoQ

Hope you have a happy, blessed evening. :)

We can

My words themselves have no power, but through my actions I believe the ideals that they stand for can change the world. I hope that the people I meet throughout my life will be touched by something in me, whether it's warmth and kindness, love, gratitude, peace, or grace, I want to stand for what I beleive in: that the world is made up of currents of goodness and righteousness, breaths of God himself, and that our actions naturally are swayed by these winds, these motions of harmony.

We cannot do it alone,
but together,
brothers,
sisters,
friends,
we CAN affect positive social change.
We CAN remind the world of gratitude and compassion.
We CAN, through our actions,
every
single
day,
change this cold, dormant planet
into a lush and beautiful
heaven of joy.

Freedom

Life seems bound
by regulations, judgements and expectations,
shackled by interpretations
so that when dusk falls like a rock
it shatters each day into a million fragmentations.
The only color an artist would use when painting
a still life of my present
is gray.
But I please and I curse,
I beg and I bleed;
I try to argue
time is more interesting spent living at the fray.
Need to add a palate of color to my day:
a splash of orange,
a touch of a brighter shade.
Beautifully misplaced
are the weeds,
serving no purpose, filling no needs.
Dandelions
a yellow spot lost in a green sea
have no hesitations,
they just grow free.
My life seems bound,
by the clouds,
by the bricks,
by your stones and your sticks.
Beautifully misplaced,
like a cold glass of sweet tea
in the middle of December,
like dreams shot by a rocket away into space,
searching for understanding,
in need of heavenly grace.