Monday, March 8, 2010

two stories of a girl named spring

I want to tell a story about a girl and how she arrives. you know she's coming; you can feel it in the air. the light and color shift; subtly at first, then in a moment the air is charged with happy static. she is bearing all things bright and beautiful. she is holding possibility in her arms; posed to deliver it to the faithful and patient. she is the party, the music, the dance. she is draped in sparkly exuberance and the only word she knows is "yes".

I want to tell a story about a girl and how she arrives. she is unexpected but somehow you are not surprised when she appears. you know her and trust her. she has been quietly working backstage, content in her study of life and love and color. her homework is done and then some. she has the answers to your questions about growth and comfort and fulfillment. she is the nurturer, the secret-keeper, the confidant. she is celadon and wisteria and the gentle scent of honeysuckle. she tiptoes softly into the room and stands before you, arms wide open. she whispers, "yes".