Daffodils are blooming in the garden. Drifts of them throw a golden light before a dark stone wall. Kind thoughts and words lighten up the dark places of my soul. Tall silver birch spread their budding branches upwards as if in prayer. I know that others are praying for me and my happiness. Brown soil is a backcloth for jewel coloured primulas and pansies, azalias and all the many flowers that bloom in the spring. They are my jewels that enrich my being. The whispering trees talk to me and the brook sings its sweet melody. All nature tells me that spring is here and life will ever move on in regenerating cycles. New life is born through dying — it has ever been so.
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