Friday, March 11, 2005
An ode, but new, view on spring's arrival
The weekend ahead could be the last breath of winter. Don't listen to the rodent and his shadow stuff, Nature with a capital "N" works above his jurisdiction. So, if that is the case, the weather will be in blazoning mode and you will see more sun, more green and the trees will look less bare. Every particle of air will begin to dismiss its negative ions and eject a flow of positive energy, not unlike the strength of Samson when he picked up all that luggage.
And, you might witness the transformation of pod to seed, as harvest grows closer and there are nay as many slaves available to sow as there are to reap. Salaried people will eye the fertile fields and join with tractors in planting great stalks of Nature's fodder for life.
Around the world a solemn feeling of readjustment will send people to thinking that freedom is worth the wait. Hundreds will line the street and sing The Rascals' People Want To Be Free, with not one of them able to do the kind of organ footwork Felix used to make that a terrific hit. Spring, a season of princes and palpitations, as Chaucer wanted to write but never got around to doing it, makes even the lamest of us flex our muscles and stand straight, looking to the sun and happy that we don't speak like Peter Jennings.
As the winter dies a death like an apostle hung upside down, all of us will feel the oneness of unity and the togetherness of the almighty solidarity of humanity. Not only that, we will leave our dirty laundry until the weekend is over and defrost a good roast for a Saturday dinner with a loved one or a once-loved one or a never-loved one, simple because we feel we are one, even with naughty priests, white boys named Jackson and people who never believed in Rooster Cogburn.
For spring is coming soon. Have a great weekend and don't run when you can walk, even if someone is playing music by The Ventures.
And, you might witness the transformation of pod to seed, as harvest grows closer and there are nay as many slaves available to sow as there are to reap. Salaried people will eye the fertile fields and join with tractors in planting great stalks of Nature's fodder for life.
Around the world a solemn feeling of readjustment will send people to thinking that freedom is worth the wait. Hundreds will line the street and sing The Rascals' People Want To Be Free, with not one of them able to do the kind of organ footwork Felix used to make that a terrific hit. Spring, a season of princes and palpitations, as Chaucer wanted to write but never got around to doing it, makes even the lamest of us flex our muscles and stand straight, looking to the sun and happy that we don't speak like Peter Jennings.
As the winter dies a death like an apostle hung upside down, all of us will feel the oneness of unity and the togetherness of the almighty solidarity of humanity. Not only that, we will leave our dirty laundry until the weekend is over and defrost a good roast for a Saturday dinner with a loved one or a once-loved one or a never-loved one, simple because we feel we are one, even with naughty priests, white boys named Jackson and people who never believed in Rooster Cogburn.
For spring is coming soon. Have a great weekend and don't run when you can walk, even if someone is playing music by The Ventures.
