Spring

It is spring... The first snowdrops outside, the first Crocus and Hyacinths. I eye everyday the plot signs of revival. Some plants will spring again, like old friends, others maybe have already died back, just like died friends. The good part about plants is that as soon as I lose one, I can replant another. Friends just fade and die and are irreplaceable. Luckily that I can indulge myself a short memory. But this year started with a new buzz, with so much inner blossom and enthusiasm and a sense of possibility that I feel relieved that certain things are not pending but have already gone to past. 

I paid my dues and turned my back to the most of it. No regrets, but rewards that come out of sorrow and unsophisticated smiles determine me to enjoy this quietness, this windy afternoon. I do not want to hide, because I am not alone any more, I know where I want to go and I know where I can find some piece of mind even if I am not on my own. 

With love...

I might have found the good thing in life and the light at the end of the line, so I know where it hurts and I learnt to know my dreams and listen to the other voices.

And love...

On soil, wet and heavy, my best friend, my nurture and my embrasseur, father-mother of my fruits, womb of my seed, siege of my revival, master of perennity and gatekeeper of my extinction, I long for you and you long for nothing...