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

Write a small blessing for the first warm day.

I bless you with a hug that you need but won't tell.
I bless you with cuddles you crave for god knows how long.
I bless you with love as serendipity's spiral.
I bless you for being you without changing into a shell.
I bless you like the first day of spring,
warm and clean, dry and serene.
I bless you for not being hung up on yourself and torn.
I bless you like one does so with a beautiful chant of a song.