There comes a time when all is silent among the woodlands and fields and rivers, then comes the bursting of the buds and Spring flows anew through the veins of everything in mortal life—the awaking after the winter sleep.
How sweet the air filled with the outputting of the buds—how joyous is all nature!
The little birds will soon be with you as the first messengers.
They will sing and rejoice and become infused with the home-building instinct.
Then, the little eggs, so carefully placed in nests of such weave as no mortal hand has ever been able to imitate.
Next the little new lives, which soon grow to maturity and flood the air with their sweet songs.
Ah, dear friend, we have the same here, only far, far more in advance.
I might say that the birds of these higher planes are in accordance with their surroundings.
All is in order of progression among feathered creation as with the once mortal form of the spirit.
Grand and glorious is it all.
Keep thy mind upon these beauties that the trials and sorrows of the present life may fade behind and away.
It is all as ye thinketh.
In ye mind ye make―or mar thy mortal life, for it leadeth ye, therefore, let its influence be in the right direction ever.
Think and think deeply.
The cheerful face ever helps, not hinders, careful thought.―Clifford in Spirit
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