Sunday, January 29, 2012

Sprouting Awareness

    Spring is in the air and I am anxious to get digging in the dirt.  I love the smell of fresh turned soil, planting seedlings in my boxes and watching them grow.  There is something special when you can bite into that first ripe tomato, add the fresh onion and oregano to your sauce, or boil the red potatoes with a pot of snap beans. 

     I'm not a winter person.  I seek out the first signs of green, the new buds on the trees and the first wild flowers growing along the roadsides.  I hunt daily for the sighting of the robin redbreast and blue jays in flight.  I ache to hear the sounds of rain pattering on my windows awaking the earth from its winter slumber.  Bunnies sprinting across my lawn in the early morning hours as the sun crests over the tops of the recently budded trees.  The air is still crisp in the mornings with the tang of fresh clippings from grass newly mowed.  My step is lighter, my moods sunnier, my smile brighter.  I stretch and twirl, laughing at the chatter of squirrels foraging the last remnants planted before the past frost.  Soon they will be feasting on new crops of seeds and tasty young shoots. 

     Even my dogs are frolicking in the yard, jumping higher, playing with joyous abandon.  Nature senses the cleanliness of a new year and all the promises of growth, fertility and abundance it has to offer.  I too look forward to a new start.  Every new day is in itself a blessing; one to cherish and embrace.

Monday, January 2, 2012

I Must Believe There is More

Rain falling; washing away the tracks of pain,
Steps I cannot feel as the cold winds invade,
Time has passed or has it stopped?
I care not; time no longer matters.

I want to see you one more time,
I want to feel your arms about me,
Feel the kiss you gently place upon my head,
Oh God, I just want to feel again.

Did I pass this block before or am I somewhere new?
A car honks as I step down off the curb,
I stop and stare but cannot see,
Tears blind me through the downpour.

How can death seem so final?
I want so badly to believe that you walk beside me.
It must be you blowing my hair gently,
Letting me know that you share my pain.

I can’t go on if there is nothing more.
I can’t wake each day and know I’ll never see you.
I must believe that there is another plain.
Where we will walk in sunshine, once again.