More & more i flow to the weather
More & more I flow to the weather.
It commands me.
Heavy lows I lie reading and restless. I transplant.
Sometimes I shape.
Sparkling highs I skip trailing love-lies-bleeding holding aloft the platycodon, figuratively.
Springing with Spring I grow manic like these damn dandlions. Spreading my seeds (oops. sorry, I only have eggs)
Then trip with the rain, fine rain,
don't have to turn on the sprinkler this week rain.
In the releasee of rain you can ask of me anything.
My sons get money, I cook for friends.
Then summer ~ oh, how can others live in that silk flower world when each leaf is dancing, while the branches sway to the beat of the trunk to the fingers of roots nestled snug into our earth is dancing.
Sweat rolling off my nose and into the carrots. Time for fences and roofs and a half day respite. But then, as harvest begins, the taste of winter to come sweetens the ripe and I remember the eternal cycle.