"And a bird overhead sang Follow,
And a bird to the right sang Here;
And the arch of the leaves was hollow,
And the meaning of May was clear,"
Algernon Charles Swinburne
As soon as I hear a bird singing a song, my eyes will search every tree to find its location. I will patiently watch what behavior it takes and whether or not it is alone. Then I will once again listen for the song, silently replying that I want to belong. Then shall sing another bird of different color and size. I, too, will follow it with my eyes until I find it upon a perch. Quietly, I will tell the bird and its mate that I truly mean no harm.
I will seek flowers popping up, admiring the colors and hue. For a moment I will stand in the presence of the hard working bud to share my admiration for the joy it will bring to all of the busy humans racing by. Pausing, I will sit on Mother Earth and feel the warmth from the sun. I will glance towards the sky in hopes to see my favorite blue with imaginative white clouds shift-shaping in and out of form.
This I have decided: to give up the heaviness upon my shoulders from wondering what kind of world I bequeath to my children. I will place my lovely self away from the fear stirred by the media and refill my heart with innocent praise and appreciation. I will honor every day in May whether it brings spring rain or sunshine or moonlight wonders. I will turn to nature for nourishment of my soul.
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