Blessed to Be

All is green now … barely a notice is left of last summer’s death … the pink impression of the plums is wafting on the most quiet of places … the hen egg cream and white of the locust blossoms is all else that is flowering the air … fragrance born of the mingling minuets only Spring and her danseur can step to … so light her silk slippers are never stained by the soil … ribbons in wind spawn expression of happy days of Summer coming so soon …  when Spring ripens from a maiden to a woman … hope can be found again if on is so inclined to seek her … with the sincere majesty of the coming of the morels … the horses returning to pasture … and the purple martins gathering again in droves to fill Mrs. Fry’s primary colouedr gourd houses … my flycatcher nest above the porch light … the snails being the final sign all are at last awake to hear night’s chorus … the bull frogs, the owls, and the listening harmony of silence … I am blessed to be a witness to it all.

  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved
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