Formation Fridays: Awakening to Creation’s Song
These are the days when I begin to look up. Hearing a familiar song draws my attention outward and upward as I hear the robin heralding the coming of spring, singing creation’s awakening song. My eyes survey the barren branches to find him or her and my spirit begins to lift and awaken from the dark and cold night of winter. In my searching gaze, I am reminded of the words of Mary Oliver’s “Such Singing in the Wild Branches”:
It was spring
and I finally heard him
among the first leaves––
then I saw him clutching the limb
in an island of shade
with his red-brown feathers
all trim and neat for the new year.
First, I stood still
and thought of nothing.
Then I began to listen.
Then I was filled with gladness––
and that's when it happened,
when I seemed to float,
to be, myself, a wing or a tree––
and I began to understand
what the bird was saying,
and the sands in the glass
for a pure white moment
while gravity sprinkled upward
like rain, rising,
and in fact
it became difficult to tell just what it was that was singing––
it was the thrush for sure, but it seemed
not a single thrush, but himself, and all his brothers,
and also the trees around them,
as well as the gliding, long-tailed clouds
in the perfect blue sky–––all of them
And, of course, so it seemed,
so was I.
Such soft and solemn and perfect music doesn't last
For more than a few moments.
It's one of those magical places wise people
like to talk about.
One of the things they say about it, that is true,
is that, once you've been there,
you're there forever.
Listen, everyone has a chance.
Is it spring, is it morning?
Are there trees near you,
and does your own soul need comforting?
Quick, then––open the door and fly on your heavy feet; the song
may already be drifting away.
I am grateful for spring, for the songs of our feathered friends, for the crisp morning air giving way to moments of warmth at midday. Creation centers me right in the middle of the Creator’s loving and tender embrace. Much needed after a cold and barren season.
I encourage you to take a few moments to pause and notice the sounds and sights of creation’s awakening song as we transition into spring in the Northern Hemisphere this next week, March 20. What does it speak to you? What does your soul need to hear, see, or feel?
Quick! Open the door!
With joy and gladness,