The Sound of Spring

The motion and emotion of eternal recurrence of transition; the embodiment of cadence; the path between resonance and dissonance, tension and release – bloom – speaks of life’s richness overflowing.

I hear warm spring sun coming through my open window, see my familiar mourning dove, and smell the breeze. Spring is budding. With every passing day, I feel myself at once holding on tight to that ineffable first-nice-day-of-spring feeling, while at the same time wanting to bound forward into shorts and bright flowers. The sensations of spring, when I listen closely, become my doorway back to the moment – back to spring, beyond reveries of hibernation.

The playground is childrening, the park is frisbeeing, and the world is peopling. I taste the bittersweet tinge of receding solitude, even if at times that solitude had become lonely. I sense trepidation in this emergence.

The flower blooms without forsaking the bud, and it will wilt without forgetting its petals, and in this transformation life lets go; lets go a need to know; lets go the comfort of acclimation; lets go the form of frozen time, and catches the beat, dancing to life for no other reason but to dance, and to chance the change of bloom.