Awake, awake, blow wide the curtains of the mind and scoop up scattered thoughts.
Awake, awake, beat furrows in the murkiness and mud and prepare the seed for harvest.
Awake from our houses and fences and safety, awake from our darkness and sleeping and winter, awake now for spring is here. It is bursting through the air from dark clouds, it is budding from the soil in new paint, it is shouting from the trees in green song, it is cutting back the night in fresh dawns.
Awake, awake, there is music if we listen. There’s a fanfare in the hail, there’s a drumbeat in the rain, there’s a trumpet in the wind, there’s a bugle in the sun. Spring is come. The ragged grass and moss are cut, the mud mounds cast by worms are squashed, the branches on the ground are cleared and we are getting ready. We can smell it in the air, we can feel it on our skin, we can hear it in our feet, spring has come and we are ready!