the warmth of sunlight on the dandelions bursting out of the earth like a flashmob
the magic of the nip in the air
the winter chill;numbed to learn how cold can also tingle and tease
not only consume every warm pore and breath
the coming alive of every blade of grass – shamelessly pointing upward
straight backed; proud that each one of them individually
and collectively gathered the moisture when they were snow buried and forced under
the red bud bursting a riot as if to emphasize that their lungs had been captive for months
the blue permeating deep as if accumulating while it can –
the pigment from the water and the sky
as well as the glossy eyes of the summer raven
the ducks in the lake laze over to the shore and quackingly
tease men with their amazing prowess of adaptation
and timeless community survival
the kite stays on the sidelines
fluttering; nimbly pursuing centerstage with the clouds
the stage was set for the new to be born
engaging in being so simple and yet
elaborate such that it had a puzzle like spirit
“You are smiling and I could see it from a distance “, shouted the young man running past me on the walkway, “Soak it up woman, Soak up the magic.”
Kashiana 