Spring Brake
Happy spring
My kings and queens!
My elves and fairies.
My freedom fighters.
You liberators, climate crusaders.
Mediators and meditators.
Happy spring my weirdos and queers.
Just a quick stop
Because we must not just plow through
On the first day of spring.
I mean plowing through is great
Do your hours.
Make your pages.
But let’s not let the first day of spring pass
Without hoping that
The crown of daisies rests lightly
On your heads
Drawing out your cares
Your worries
Your anxiety and dread
Because what is even real anymore?
Spring is.
Spring is real.
Drawing out the shmutz
Into its aliveness.
And may that crown of flowers -
No need to shlep to a field or even a store
Go ahead and imagine them
It works just as well
Or maybe more -
May that crown of flowers
Woven in a circle
Of stem and bloom
Pull into its aliveness
Like a poultice
Your urgent trying and tensing
Pull into its crown of goo
Your sense of impending doom.
Purifing the unneeded
And nourishing the sixth of your senses
And may these daisies and their friends
Wilt, full of your cast offs, and wash away
Into these new rushing streams.
May this spring cleaning
Happen with no effort.
Just like that.
Easier than expected.
Softer than moss.
In a world of delirious hardness.
May you feel fired up to toss
Care
To the wind.
Yes let’s not rush through this day.
Though deadlines loom.
Lifelines sprout.
May your broom
Find all the winter dust
Even even some from last summer
As without knowing it was spring
You grabbed it
So in synch.
Because seasons.
Are real.
So here’s to the rising of your phoenix's…
What's the plural of phoenix?
Happy spring to you who know.
You scholars and wizards.
May our winged selves
Soar and see from above
What we miss from below.
And see you at the show.
Friday.
Infinitely Yours
xx
B
PS. Bonus spring haiku
I stopped to smell the
Roses. But they didn’t smell.
So I tried again.