Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly,
Drips the soaking rain,
By fits looks down the waking sun:
Young grass springs on the plain;
Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
Swollen with sap put forth their shoots;
Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane;
Birds sing and pair again.
There is no time like Spring,
When life’s alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track –
We’ve shared the simple beauty of Christina Rossetti’s words before. This excerpt is from her much-loved poem ‘Spring’. Right now, we’re really feeling this lovely spring poem by her. It echoes the grey moods that sit in contrast with hope everywhere in the world this May.
It reminds us that—although the world has paled and greyed mirroring the monsoon skies, and everything is a little misty, and a little strange—all seasons come to an end for another to begin.
The earth is drenched with clouds, but also, songs of birds. Damp and dense yet, hopeful. So, wait. Watch. When the flowers bloom you’ll see why the rain was so necessary.