What comes back. What we let back in. The long slow work of re-entering our own lives.

Return

A spring orbit. Something is loosening. This week we turn toward what is coming back, and what we are finally ready to let come back.

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,

hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees 

Early Spring

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.

The Thaw

What are you afraid will come back with the warmth?

The Sun, like an orange, or a sweet half-eaten mango, as every morning, it always does return, amidst all this life of chaos and displeasure, I know I'll have the sun to wake me up, that's a god i can trust and believe in, and i see that god in someone else, and i do see god in someone else, and i see it as if, they have returned, and now those seem like my mornings, with warmth, and equal coldness, the sun that had never left, has somehow entered my life.