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.

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