I’m not a poet, but this day is poetry.
Releasing bonds and feeling myself in the space I’ve been led to take.
My mind churned all night from happiness.
Today, I woke to warmth and joy filled little girls.
Walks to the barn, marveling at such tiny little hens,
Songs, rhymes, small peat pot green houses and quick sprouting seeds;
Digging in the dark winter full dirt,
Swinging feels like flying.
Mommy can still hang upside down from bent knees, climb a tree and feel it grasp me back, enjoy wind in my hair, relax in height, and allow the Fix-It-Up-Chappy to make me a star bellied Sneetch.
We rest with smiles and the relief that seasons bring.