My Creative Voice

Trying to add value, make sense of what's coming next and keeping things going in the same direction.

The Pause

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It is late and I prepare to retire
for the night.
Locking doors, shutting windows,
closing out nature for another night.
I head to my sanctuary and begin the
preparation for what I hope
is a peaceful, restorative slumber.
As I start to close the blinds
to block the light
that I know will come,
I pause.
Spring is blowing gently on my face
through the open window
reminding me of the beauty of life in the darkness.
 
An ode to Spring
has been written every day
in the endless, blue sky
with the puffy white clouds floating
like whispers of fun to come.
Life has returned to this silent
world that we move through
with no music to accompany us
in the long death of winter.
 
The green grass, plants and trees
burst out of their sleep and are
like children in their
greed for the sunshine.
The warmth of the sun is
like sweets the earth has been denied
while on a diet of snow and cold.
The smells of Spring
tickle my nose and awaken me
like a bear from hibernation.

 

The spicy scent of the irises that
greet me each morning as I leave for work.
The feathery, primordial ferns
that caress my ankles as I walk to the rain barrel.
The widespread leaves of the hosta
that provide shade and haven for the
dastardly slugs that know no better than to
eat their protector.
All of these surround me as I
soak Spring in to my bones.

 

 
 
 
 As I stand at the window
this symphony of Spring passes
through my tired brain
and I cannot bear to be separated
for the whole night
from that which I have longed for
only months before.
So the decision is made to
leave the windows open
arrange a gap in the blinds
and allow the cool kiss of the warm spring breeze
to surround me during my slumber.
 
What fails to register,
what I will steadfastly deny,
for the pleasure of that kiss,
for the reminder
of the leaves and flowers and bees buzzing on clover,
for the opportunity to continue to connect
to Mother Nature
as her symphony of spring plays on,
What I ignored during my pause at the window
are the wind instruments in the symphony.
 
5am comes early and
the sound of bird song
drags me slowly from the slumber
I was trying to induce
by leaving the window open in the first place.
Not just one member
Not just one lowly piccolo
tweeting its song
But the whole damn orchestra
that invited their friends to join them.
 
And so I rise.
I close the window.
I lower the blind.
And I steadfastly refuse to applaud
even though I would appear
to be on my feet for a standing ovation
for this unwelcome performance.
 
Mother Nature will not get a bravo from me
no matter how fantastic her symphony
may be…

Author: Elizabeth Plouffe

Writer, communicator, entrepreneur, tea enthusiast (bordering on fanatic) who enjoys helping others connect. Cookbook reader, cottage lover, book devourer (apparently I make up my own language too) and seeker of the ambition to exercise.

One thought on “The Pause

  1. I absolutely adored this. I LOVE the imagery of the standing ovation for Mother Nature…

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