I’ve been noticing evidence of spring outside. Like many other people, spring is my favorite season. Spring breathes life into things that you thought were dead. The sleeping seed buried within the earth awakens and produces something beautiful and unquestionably, alive.
We have new neighbors again this year. The house to my left has seen a number of residents in my tenure. But these are the first occupants of the home to notice the bright yellow tulips that grow along the west side of the house. There are no other flowers on the property. Most people living there never notice them because they usually don’t bloom. But my new neighbors are different. As the first days of spring stretched on, I heard them talking excitedly about the plant growing by the deck. Then I saw them watering it, day after day. My neighbors give the flowers their love and attention. And the flowers bloom.
They are beautiful.
Sometimes it feels as though certain parts of me are dead. Pieces within me that once belonged somewhere and made up the person that is me are now seemingly invisible. But, I think the pieces are still there, just like the seed of the tulip is still there even when you cannot see its blooms. I think perhaps the parts of me that I cannot see right now are lying dormant, waiting for the sun to awaken them, waiting for the breath of life to call them forth from the confines of the darkened earth.
We have new neighbors again this year. The house to my left has seen a number of residents in my tenure. But these are the first occupants of the home to notice the bright yellow tulips that grow along the west side of the house. There are no other flowers on the property. Most people living there never notice them because they usually don’t bloom. But my new neighbors are different. As the first days of spring stretched on, I heard them talking excitedly about the plant growing by the deck. Then I saw them watering it, day after day. My neighbors give the flowers their love and attention. And the flowers bloom.
They are beautiful.
Sometimes it feels as though certain parts of me are dead. Pieces within me that once belonged somewhere and made up the person that is me are now seemingly invisible. But, I think the pieces are still there, just like the seed of the tulip is still there even when you cannot see its blooms. I think perhaps the parts of me that I cannot see right now are lying dormant, waiting for the sun to awaken them, waiting for the breath of life to call them forth from the confines of the darkened earth.
2 comments:
Nice to hear your voice again!
Beautiful. Poetic. Relatable. So glad you're my friend.
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