For my sparse yet adoring fans wondering like me …."Is Spring ever going to get here?"
Be encouraged, use the time indoors to reflect and rejuvenate yourselves on the inside.
I penned these poems a few weeks after a slightly hellish but awakening trip to Indianapolis and Chicago O'Hare Airports which inspired me to take more time to do nothing.
Date: February 25, 2007
Time: Morning
Location: At My Kitchen Table
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Life Synonymous With Spring
I see my happiness far off, like the rise of the sun on the horizon.
It looks faint but bright and I start to remember the smell of Spring,
My well of joy, now's bout empty
And I wonder why I feel the way I do
I am waiting to abound forward, like the newness of Spring.
Brought forth
Brought into
Brought out of
My life synonymous with Spring.
But to me I am hard to find
Like hedge clippers lost in the weeds of tall grass
Like grasshoppers against the roar of heavy traffic
I am there just inaudible to the ear, not legible to the eye and only faintly visible in spirit.
Spring is here and not here like I am.
Only present in cellulous form, a faint specter, a daydreamers apparition of aspiration
Dear God, let not just the ghost of me Spring forth but the truth of who I am.
Let me be made whole and my greatness be made known.
Like buds of trees springing forth fruit, let me Spring forward to show the world the gospel of your truth.
I love the smell of Spring, like freshly cut lemons.
That newness, and freshness you wish you could always keep in its exactness
And I am reminded of me when I am FRESH, how I feel, how I perceive and glow bright and yellow too….like Spring.
My life synonymous with Spring.
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