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These are love notes, you know, these seed pods, these fields and creek banks kissed with newly fallen snow.

I tromp about with booted feet to gather them, joy pumping through my veins and warming me.  I am giddy, like a child set loose and free.

“Oh, look!  Look!” I sing to the sky as I find them.

I drop them here to delight you, and to share my own delight.

These are love songs from the Great Yes, meant for your heart, for your eyes, that you may be glad.

And I am so privileged to have this postman’s duty.

It rides the winds and plays through the boughs of the trees.  It skims along roadways and fields, and into all the cities and towns, swooping through doorways and windows.  There’s no holding it back.

It’s come to make its home in you, to pour itself into your mouth, to ride the air into your lungs, to drench your very cells with its sweetness and its power.

Shhhh.  Just listen. Breathe it out.  Breathe it in.  Be the song, wordless and singing.

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Giggle, wiggle, wink, jig.  Holler, whistle, toot.

It’s not the how that matters, it’s the getting in the game.

It’s finding a little minute for a tickle now and then, for tapping and clapping and slip-sliding away.

The power of perspective is hidden (whoot-whoot!) in play.

Bam! You’re a kid again with a wide open mind, where all the magic is free to roll in (giggling) and grab you (tickling) and where every circumstance is your rabbit-in-a-hat ally just waiting for a wave of your wand.

Think of the power the smallest glint of light contains.  The flame of a single candle can illumine a room, a heart, ignite hope, show the way.

How much more, then, can you, who are made of light, do?   What magic you have!  What beauty!

Strangers find solace in one of your smiles.   Your touch comforts and soothes.  Your gentle glance heals.

And when you turn it on, when you fill it with the breath of your heart, birds sing and stars dance in the heavens.

Shine on, gentle light.  Cast your comfort into the night and bring us home.

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Sensuous as silk, the notes slide long and low, playing lullabies, laments, or late night songs for lovers.

Or they rush like a  flock of birds shooting suddenly upward from the fields.

Or they tumble in joy like water over rocks in a winter stream.

But always they’re in motion.  Nothing stands still.

They’re lyrical, these dancing notes, sweeping and soaring as they do.

They hold all sweetness and all sorrow, all winning and all loss; it is the same to them. It is all beauty and filled with love and always, always in motion.

The day had been gray, that heavy, relentless gray that numbs your mind.  Now and then raindrops splattered the windshield as we drove along.  The rhythmic thump of the windshield wipers only added to the monotony and we wondered if would ever end.

It was like those seasons of depression you go through sometimes, colorless and dull.

But then, just as afternoon was turning into evening, the sun broke through and the hills outside the windows gleamed with a brilliant gold.

It would fade as quickly as it appeared.  But for this one fleeting moment, we were revived.  Its beauty rescued us from the gloom and reminded us that beyond the clouds, the light endlessly shines, and if you just keep going, it will break through.

“Tomorrow could bring storms with lashing winds and snow,” one said, gesturing to the bank of heavy clouds that sailed by.

“Or it could be sunny,” the youngest one chirped hopefully, “and the funny little chickadees could come and hop about our branches.”

“Maybe we’ll see the deer again, now that the hunters have gone,” mused the maple.

Eventually, the clouds blew past and the stars sparkled in the clear night sky.  And the old friends fell into silence, filled with the peace of the night and the contentment of the enduring present pleasures.

Grab a ribbon of joy and tie it on your day.  Hook one end on your bedpost in the morning and stream the rest along with you.  Take it wherever you go.

Dance it down the street and twirl it over the heads of strangers.  Let children jump rope to its swing.  Play tug of war with dogs.

Wind it around lampposts and trees.  Pin pieces on the lapels of old ladies’ coats.  Stuff handfuls of it in the hats of beggars. (There’s always more.)

Use it as an eraser on every scowl and frown you see.

At night, make a bow with the end you tied to your bedpost.  Oh, how it will decorate your dreams!

Hearts beat.  Lungs pump. Thoughts fly, and the moments that give rise to them.

Even the slow things dance.  Elephants and turtles lumber.  Buds unfold.  Rocks turn to sand.

It’s all one ever-changing, glorious dance, my friends, to the song of the Yes, played in the key of infinite joy.

Even when the world is windless and drained of color, your beauty takes my breath away.

I know you give no thought to it, to the way you stand apart from the crowd, to the simplicity and balance of your life.

You think of yourself as ordinary, passing from season to season, doing what’s before you to be done.

And yet you do it all so well, with such harmony and grace.

I know that you would laugh to hear me say so, but you hold more beauty than my words could ever say.

And even in the darkness, you take my breath away.