Posted by on May 4, 2011 in Reflections | 4 comments

Kite 3 

Last Spring



Fill yourself up with the forsythias
and when the lilacs flower, stir them in too
with your blood and happiness and wretchedness,
the dark ground that seems to come with you.

Sluggish days. All obstacles overcome.
And if you say: ending or beginning, who knows,
then maybe—just maybe—the hours will carry you
into June, when the roses blow.
Kite 7

Spring is calling me, forcefully urging me to come out into it and "be."  I've been driving myself pretty hard for awhile now. There are seasons for that; I am exiting one defined as "go, go, go" and entering another. I'm doing my best to listen to the wisdom of this new season, to obey the cues of my spirit and body. 


Kite 5


I think walks are what I need – long ones, and coffee dates with neighbors. Replacing rushing about and planning ahead with absorbing the little details stitched together to form the present takes practice. It requires a deliberate decision to release some desires I'd bumped up to the category of "priorities," thus overfilling my schedule and diminishing my peace of mind. 


Kite 8


 Spring, unwind me like a kite that I might soar above the tension born of too many expectations and too few hours in the day. Unplug me, slow me down that I might inhale you – the beauty of you and the miracle of so much dead being reborn, and blooming. 


Kite 9


Had I thought the world would end if I didn't keep up with my own vision of what a successful me should accomplish?

Oh look, it hasn't!

Letting go makes only sweeter that impromptu conversation with another mother at the park, the fourth book read to my son before bedtime, the unhurried moments on our screened-in porch, sipping wine, with my darling husband.


Kite 6


Spring, reign in my wandering attention.

Keep me closer to home.