The swell and swirl of this spring has taken over the properties of time and space transforming simple green to lavish, single flowerings to abundance. I want to say stop it, stop growing so fast; there is no more room for growth since I cannot catch up anymore to this wild change. This change has taken over my children, too. I witness their growths beyond limits, beyond the boundaries of recognition. I want to say stop it, stop growing up so fast, but before I can say it they have changed once again, transforming right before my eyes, rolling fast forward into a future as fast as I into the past. I want to warn them of the risks that lie hidden in each flowering, the deadly thorns embedded in the stem, but they do not believe in shadows being nurtured by spring rain and a young sun. I take my council from the night when the earth is cool and dark, grounded by the hibernation of sleep and dream when the old grow young once again; where memories of love can wake even the dead.
first day of spring-- the yellow on their chin after dandelion picking