the first red bottlebrush blossoms are opening right outside the back door
I caught a flare in the corner of my eye n went out to walk the front yard in a circle jus to See if the tree really decided to greet me
its nice to Be received so tenderly
the natural rhythm is like that
when I think of April I call back moments of harmonious synchronization n feel affirmed by my ability to listen
listening is fluid when the roots are tended to
n I can Be like Water too
there is nourishment in the space(s) between listening n Being unmoved
someTimes receptivity is overlooked but
the stillness calls for effort too
to Become attuned to who you are listening to
I remember winter
the sifting through
April comes n
I sit
(still)
to hear you growing too