Green Things
Things secret and green are poking up into the world. I extend a tentative finger, touching each one. Hello. They are strong and like upside down divers, hands thrust toward the sun.
The beginnings of daffodils and tulips spear through last autumn's leaves. The weeds are still weeks away, and the rain will provide these first flowers with all the water they need. This is the time that I love my garden. Bulbs I buried under winters long past push through all the dirt and leaves that have been heaped upon them.
Slumbering in silence, shoving aside misconceptions like here there be no flowers, believing there is light in the direction they are heading and standing tall and bright through - and because of - all the rain - this is the ethos of green things.


