Meanwhile

Dandelions

a child plays in a spring field
the sun shining and the grass wet with dew
a patch of yellow flowers catches her eye
the happy, fleshy heads staring up at her
and she smiles.
she plucks a few with sheer delight
to bring home to her mother
who loves them
because they are a gift
and the plant left behind
begins to reconstruct itself.
a woman walks through her spring yard
the sun shining and the grass wet with dew
a patch of yellow flowers catches her eye
the happy fleshy heads staring up at her
and she scowls.
she bends down and snips the stalk
the milk runs over her hands
the stub left behind, a corpse
for sometime in her younger years
someone very unaware
said they are not flowers at all
but weeds.

hear me whisper

Time is understood in terms relative to the scope of the human mind.

My mind is back. It was sleeping, my heart sputtering. But now both are alive and flourishing. I am back and on my way. All things are possible. Be it from returning to school, love, caffeine, all three.

I know of what things are made of. How be healthy. How to feel free.  All this knowledge is out there. What a privilege, to be taught to fish rather than fed!

you have to wonder if there is an ideal balance of experience and reflection.