I was dog sitting this weekend. Every morning, ice or no, we would walk to the local park where they could run free. It’s such a refreshing way to start my days, even if some mornings it was a balmy 25 degrees. While I have loved experiencing the full 4 seasons of living on the east coast, I am ready for spring to arrive and so am eagerly searching for every glimpse of the warming days. I wrote this after yesterday’s walk.
A fresh dusting of snow greeted the dogs and I this morning. The sound of dogs barking in the distance unmuffled by the leaves of summer, mingled with the choir of wind chimes lining our block. Walking through the woods, the dogs and I crunched the icy layers of of snow with every step, leap and bound. While watching the dogs run, I searched for spring hoping for any indication of the warmth my body craves. Most of the branches are still empty though this morning I saw a few tiny tightly wound red buds, each hiding a bundle of spring, a spread of summer, and a canopy of fall. Then suddenly EE Cummings greeted me with the words from one of my favorite poems,
here is the deepest secret nobody knows(here is the root of the root and the bud of the budand the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which growshigher than soul can hope or mind can hide)and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars aparti carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Spring, tightly wound and still bundled against the cold nights, is waiting for the thinning cloak of winter, to shed its last layers. I laughed remembering Cummings words. I thought if my heart is being held inside someone else’s heart, at least its warm, especially given my fingers were definitely freezing this morning.
This morning, I missed seeing the dogs staring at me, waiting for their morning walk. The rhythm of a daily walk, a daily reminder and opportunity to watch the woods come to life, to wake up, was a great gift this weekend. Luckily its going to be in the mid 50’s all week, the snow is melting and my body is ready for the first long runs of the year. This weekend I have been reminded that the glories of a morning/evening walk is exactly the meditation my heart needs. A slow waking up, a matching of my breath to the breath of the earth at it wakes the ground, to break free the seeds sleeping under the dirt, leaves and snow.
For all of you trying to remember the rest of the poem here it is.
i carry your heart with me(i carry itin my heart)i am never without it (anywherei go you go,my dear;and whatever is doneby only me is your doing,my darling)i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet) i wantno world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meantand whatever a sun will always sing is you