Comforting a Newborn Thing

colored craving things arrive reaching tender to assault eyes unused in wintered hollow months grey and white and plain becoming sudden kaleidoscopes bleeding into landscapes, drowning pain with cacophonies of endless greetings, as nature emerges with energies and hunger. awakening to spring and living now again along a garden wall in shades of many trees where grasses lean to show the shallows left by bended knees, winter mourns her missing finds the solace spring allows. each year, the trees and grasses form a springtime here. shadows burst to life inserting wisdom to our trowels, flagstones, breadcrumbs, streaks of dappled sun through arbor boughs. clouds of every nation’s hue the garden wall allows. beneath the trees along a wall, where mother earth colludes with all to waken us again to waiting lives. where we will walk again into the morning light, allowing the night to pass over us. we follow our footsteps west, facing the sun, feeling its radiance upon us as the kiss of day meets us there. each morning, the border of a new frontier. where things are quiet, unborn of fear. finishings are left, beginnings yet to be. new is all there is to see. eyes searching skies here, ears detecting clues. hearts wait here for the birth of their comfort. upon a log with gnarled burls of hardened skin we find a resting bench, with green moss tablecloths grown from the earth by a slow-moving wisdom, providing reflection, this tree laid down its life centuries ago knowing one day we would come to sit upon its broad back and learn that faith is sharing life through patience and sacrifice. nearby, the ocean waves create a spray that towers over all. providing raindrops sent to linger on the garden wall. dew drops form on maple leaves; however small. although each soul is born to a different medium, spring shall bend itself to form a call of new beginnings giving birth to endings that will one day beckon every drop to find its fall.