It is liberating to finally open the windows and breathe fresh air deeply into winter-weary lungs.

I’ve been able to get to the clothesline via soggy flip flops this week, which signals the start of the season for me. Nothing smells better than sheets fresh off the line. I enjoy a self-satisfied grin as I traverse the dying mounds of slush in the backyard. Adios, sucker.

Friends, I think we made it. Now all we need is more needles firmly in arms and we can all breathe a little more evenly.

April is National Poetry Month. I am not sure why April, but for northern hemisphere dwellers desperate for light and warmth, poetry provides just that.

Poetry helped me find my way back to writing. It is a natural healer as it forces the rational mind to rest, and sensations and emotions to rise and be heard.

A good friend introduced me to Mary Oliver’s poetry a few years ago. Her poems blew my mind. For a sweet sample, check out When Death Comes.

This wise friend also shared “With That Moon Language” by Hafiz a 14th century Sufi Poet (translated by Daniel Ladinsky):

Admit something:

Everyone you see, you say to them, “love me”
of course you do not do this out loud,
otherwise someone would call the cops.

Still though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect.
why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye
that is always saying,
with that sweet moon language,
What every other eye in this world is dying to hear?

I must have a severe case of chutzpah to put my poetry on the same page as Mary Oliver and a Sufi Poet. But I like to believe Mary would chuckle and take a deep drag off a cigarette, and Hafiz might smile and spin to honor my continued fumble along the path o’ life.

After all, it is the time of the year for cleansing and offering up our grime to the light.

Spring Cleaning

Let the natural in –
all rocks and trees and hills,
moss and grass and lichen too.

Throw open the door to singing stream
laughing waters to flow and wander at will.

Sunlight and birdsong burst through cracked walls,
gentle breeze loosens stiffened roof.

And as you stare in awe a-top rubble foundation,
you may wonder why you stayed so long in this outgrown room.

Whatever form your spring cleaning takes, may a sturdy broom be firmly in hand to usher out all that is no longer needed, to welcome home that which is pure and joyful.