Not a beanstalk, but it might as well be, magic seeds sprouting the way to giant dreams, and in the center, a sunbeam passes through a hole in a leaf purposefully to reach me, or is it simply that light is at the center of all belief?
Insignificant the manmade pier seems, foolishly leading horizontally…
Between my fingers, I slowly twirl the way I’ve done before, white petals like the pinwheel that may in turn propel my heart and set in motion in the universe the dreams I’ve protectively harbored, but now I realize, those dreams have been all granted by the stars, so the only thing that fades in the mist of heaven’s clouds is my grip on hope for I can release the hold now that I have been delivered to your arms.
With a single spark from my wild heart, I sneakily reseed a little yellow cheer and carry on my solo way, planting the little flames to light the way back to love.
So if you see the floral light, pass it on randomly, be kind to a stranger, let’s try to string smiles, no matter how fleeting, for the winter is receding, and the birds sing of forgiveness, of burying, of remembering,
for in the decay of leaves, we can fertilize the best parts of memories, and visit the rest at the graveyard of past seasons; the reasons you cling to that poison your roots, leave by the wayside and mark the route. Visit respectfully but do not carry it with you; seeds were meant for detaching, and rebirthing where they land new blooms.
Shades of bright pink– magenta, fuchsia, cerise– through a sea of gray, peek, a reminder that soon it will be spring.
In the shroud of fog and mist that seems to perpetually persist, nature refuses to statically subsist; every cloud will again disperse or lift.
Time was constructed with the condition of motion with clauses that require stages of hibernation; every living thing needs rest and recuperation. Time ticks on at the same rate; speed is but perception.
Fill the moments wisely with balance, tenderly caring for each personal aspect. Mind, body, and soul are both one and separate; each undergo necessary, natural occurrences.
Embrace each season that inevitably occurs; even the cold, the dark, the thorns, the spurs have their purpose in the slows and the stirs. We are nature within, designed this way by our Creator.
This too shall pass: it’s happening for a reason. Let’s not be in a hurry for every next season. This moment now is infused with more than you can know. We are not meant to understand, only to continue to evolve,
We will reach the sun when we are meant to. Side by side or entwined, let us together bloom. No hurry, no need to be bold; we can take our time, be led by