The whole world comes alive when the sun rises. One by one, two by two they emerge from east, from west, from every way and every other way, whole flocks together as if a heavenly call has gone out and they're heeding its message. Is it the rays, the light, the glimmer that bids them come? the oranges, reds, the magenta that dazzles and displays? or something else I can't see, can't hear, can't comprehend? Is there a knowing I don't know? A joke I'm not in on? Ashore, I stand mired...heavy...earthen. the only unflighted one of morning. Astonished at their soaring, gliding, joyful shouting, "Here I am!" "Coming!" "Wait for me!" Guzzling the good, good news of morning. What a glorious day has come and is coming when we, weighted and terribly terrestrial loosen our ties and shed the lashing pinning our wings. And, with the rest, come alive in the new day.
The snow is melting taking the evidence of all my hard work with it. Soon, the path I shoveled so Silver could get to the fence will be gone. The piles around the drive that I heaved so my husband could get to work and my daughter could get to school – gone. The swath I cut so my mailman could get to the box and the UPS delivery guy could get to the porch – gone. Even the sharp corner of snow on the street, piled high by the plows, that I removed to help turners come ’round the bend will soon be gone. All gone.
Nothing left. Vanished. But for the smile of the post man, the quicker step from Mr. UPS, the sigh of relief from daughter, the on time arrival of husband, and the paws that continue to find their way. Traffic will give it no further thought.
It was nothing, really. And now it is.
“Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” ~ (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)