Singed and tattered Void of life Just brown husks of what used to be. Do I let them stand there Like marked gravestones? Do I pull them out Roots so deep? I gave them time to bounce back. Now spring has sprung And the tattered and torn are not Returning back to glory. The maker’s mark on what has been But is never more.
Tag: spring
SPRING
A new beginning, A return to life, To the cycle of the season of spring. There is change in the air: The stillness, the silence. The cold and dark longing of winter Has turned the page Like a new calendar Or blank sheet of paper. The momentum of change, Of growth, has begun. The wind reminds me that There is power beyond my control. It can be warm and gentle, or biting cold. Spring is the ultimate awakening. Spring is transition manifest. I awaken from my slumber Like the songbird or blue jay’s shriek A sudden shift or a quiet moment into being, To stretch and embody All that was meant to be. Spring is the entryway to fullness, To the temple of my heart. The darkest longing now bright and bold. A word deeply written on the page. A forest of chicken scratch Where the blank earth once stood bare.
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.
Healing Insights 