Kindling Kindness
Finally, she could get down on her knees again, not in prayer but to touch rosemary and lavender which had begun to send its fragrance into the spring and rising warmth in nature’s heart. There was no sense of regret that winter passed with revolving anticipation of summer. As she felt soil and weeds slip through her fingers, her hands embroidered new patterns in gravel and time yard directly from the canvas of happiness. A daffodil had been waiting so long to cheer her up and bowed its flower towards a flock of birds picking earthworms and seeds, ready to digest the feast and spread it way past horizon and hedges. Blackberry thorns never bothered her much and she could already taste mouth-watering sweetness on her palate as words gathered to put emotions into poetry in motion. The garden shed was overgrown with Honeysuckle and Virginia Creeper and gave thanks that her secateurs had rusted like an artefact of personal narrative. She had once cut the lawn with household scissors, but this time she decided not to prune or stunt what has to grow for a change. The garden bench needed a lick of paint though and she mixes dandelion, blue bells and wild garlic with linseed oil and saffron tincture and moves the drift wood sculpture closer to the Victorian sash window.
silken fragrance swirls
perfumes season and pasture -
fondles the future
time treasures present
unwind ephemeral scent –
only the wind knows
spring steps to the fore
portrays essence for poems –
transcendent serene
firewood settles
under leaves piled up awaits -
autumn's inglenook
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