Deciduous trees start with a delicate beauty And end in vibrant hues again. The tree’s true colors are exposed. There is no holding back, conforming to standards or blending in. To spend the rest of your days in that beautiful authentic expression is something to behold and cherish. Unapologetic without concern of backlash. I celebrate the new blooms. They remind me of a fresh start And the excitement of something new. Fragile like the robin’s nest Sturdy and well made But too low to the ground. Not enough protection to promote healthy offspring. Life is all around us. The birds are learning too. They must feel loss. The robins lost their shelter, their home base. Is it too late to try again? Is nature a cruel teacher? Not so if it prevents future loss of life. We don’t punish the birds. It’s the nature of things. And death too is a part of that cycle Whether we like it or not. And we are a part of nature. It can never be removed No matter how urban and modern our surroundings. The pink blossoms are in their full glory And I am delighted.
What is but a moment in time? This precise moment to be exact. When the child smiles and runs through the grass. When the old folks rock on their rockers. When the mouths of the hungry, the sad, the oppressed, the joyful all open wide in reply. It is frozen in time. For just a moment. Then it is gone. It can never return or be what once was. The hunger, the anger, the weeping and the joy have all moved on too. Like little rebirths and deaths, we go through the days. The events, the thoughts, the feelings are never exactly how they were just a moment ago that’s past. Can we feel it? Can we express and not hide it or smile it away hoping the feeling will once again be buried? It’s a shallow grave. A rug that’s become a mound of unfelt feeling. The rawness like a struck a nerve, although hidden, is quite easily stung. Sparked to right where the emotion began. Yet it may be stronger, expressed and felt differently, it needs to discharge. Energy back to the earth. Back to the grassy edge, the hedges, the puddle, the cloud and the rain. Then we can be truly free. Free to be me and free to be you. Not bogged down by weighty old emotions like baggage of lost voyagers that have long passed on and whose items have fallen out of fashion. Out of use. We can have a rebirth each and every day with each inhale that fills our lungs with the fullness of life.