it makes a change

again

it’s good to see the water moving.

to see water carrying sunlight and twigs under small bridges.  it’s good for nature to prove that frozen water thaws into spring.

that sun will shine down through bird song once again this year.

reaching

patch

always winter and never christmas was realer than i’ve known it this year.  when snow fell mid-april i told myself it was okay.  good even.

but now i ask with hope, is it really over?

i’ve held the belief that seasons were always just as long as they should be.  to truly be thankful for the buds of spring, the ice had to stay a touch too long.

but after this winter, the green here is feeling like a life line.

sos

a friend sat across from me and told me that i hurt her feelings.  that i send mixed messages.  that she missed me.

she was right, but i had to include winter’s part in all of it.  that long season of turning inward gone on longer than usual.  it began to tell me how little i have to offer now.  that she and everyone offers so much.

longevity, beauty, imagination and stability.

but that it isn’t found in me.

and it brought tears to her eyes.

edge

i do offer little, but offer i do.

and spring has reminded me of the little i do offer.

i offer walking down to this reborn water’s edge.  i put my feet right in and see brown muck sink and rise around each toe.  i can put a pale winter hand in and take the clean water back around to my neck warmed by new sun.  i can bring it to my forehead and feel right now what’s been frozen come back to life.

and i can tell you about it.

maybe you can see it too.  maybe you can.

i was made to observe.  to look real close and tell all that i’ve seen.  there is nothing new under the sun, it’s true – but it’s all new to me.

gratitude journal ~ one thousand gifts ~ 1921 – 1939

shannon
trampolines
dr. sam
quiet phones
windows open
washing the car
field trips
going to the mall with megan
twenty years of friendship
weather dependence
nachos
walter white
writing backwards
meeting my coffee soulmate
manresa
windows down
holding a baby duck
jamica’s yard
summer soon

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