first bloom

the first flower to bloom

in spring is always the most

beautiful. many more shall

be blooming in due time but

it is the first that is always

my favorite. i will pay homage

to it the most. likely it will be a

daffodil, a crocus, or a tulip.

i always hope for it to be a

dwarfed crested iris, lavender

or pale blue, but usually i am

left waiting till may, after the

frozen earth can no longer

hold it in its grasp before I

see it. by summer my garden

will be a masterpiece of a

thousand hues. my lonely

heart that was locked in winter

will be set free with unbridled

play. my battles with my own

existence will cease. i will no

longer be vulnerable or lost

in a beleaguered sadness.

soon i will be cutting down

trees and splitting logs. my

old bones will be tested. i

choose hickory and ash to

keep us warm. i will be ready

for the next winter, even if it

should arrive early. i will

climb to the summit of my

mountain and watch the

valley turn from dirty gray

to a delicate peace. when

my energy is spent, my belly

is empty, and my back has

grown stiff, it is then i smell

pork chops cooking from an

open window, and where

the apple crisp is cooling too.

inside my home is the man i

met a million miles before.

the invisible has blessed me

with him. how lucky am i to

have this infatuation? he is

the rose of my soul, the soil

where my seed is planted,

the earth with its wondrous

pleasures. the bees have

been working in the clover.

i have tasted the honey on

his tongue. he has extinguished

the fire on mine. we have

aged well together with the

sun and moon. we are twisted

together like the grape vines

clinging to each other. our

fruit is forever sweet. he is

the first bloom in my garden

of intimacy. he knows the

ways to caress the seasons

of my perennial love. we live

in our own “leaves of grass.”

together we sit and listen to

the echoes of silence. there

is no violence in our hearts.

our age is not measured in

time but by the body. we

are a bouquet of love,

everlasting. he will be

forever, my first bloom.

 

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