Connection

ALL THE BLOOMS

All the blooms have paid their visit.
They fulfilled their roles to completion.
Now green leaves of every hue remain on the branches.

All the trees marinate and meld into just a tree
Where the blooms easily identified the species.

Now they are a forest of trees
Indistinguishable to the undiscerning eye.
One lone red maple stands out from the rest.

Does the species of tree matter to the nesting bird
Tending to their fragile, precious young?

Maybe.
Sturdy, tall, with camouflaged branches
They call home.

I call it nature’s greenery.

Connection

The Spring Crocus

The wild darling on the cusp of spring
The crocus has found its way to the surface
Having traveled over and over
In the same track as its predecessors.

The cold earth has found a softness,
An opening.
And the lush green breathes into me.
The fragileness of new life.

The sun breathes out energy.
The seedlings desperately alchemize
And rapidly transforms.

Their ripe green petals mimicking grass
Kiss and pepper the earth.
I marvel at the emerald blades
That try to camouflage into the lawn.

They are hardy and make the perennial trip.
They wake me from my winter slumber
And remind me, even in the bitter harshness
of cold and darkness,
This too shall pass.

And my heart leaps to join the beauty,
To wear green and lie in the grass
Warm to the touch from the golden sun.

I touch the delicate petals
And thank them for this yearly gentle reminder.
A smile forms on my face.

The mourning doves have returned this year.
I wonder if the young couple will find 
a more hardier, sturdier nesting place.

Nature is the greatest teacher.