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Turning Over a New Leaf
Catkins emerge
so tenderly
with such a meek beginning
as a foreshadowed precursor
in vibrancy and joy
to their eventual full palmed glory,
which will culminate in
autumn’s brandished parade
of rustling garments, not yet fully made
to be scattered to the wind
until bare and cold and sleeping
prodigiously long…
then eventually…
producing blushing buds,
which issue forth their secret contents
like butterfly wings from a cocoon,
initially all crumpled, but hesitantly unfolding,
unfurling timidly, as they peek out
summoned, surrounded, and nurtured
by warm encouragement.
They are feathery with inexperience
more tentative than those
future flagrant flags
that will wave gregariously,
but now still slightly shy
these only demurely nod
in the gentle breeze
splaying across
the bright blue heavens
in spangled color
so ready to rejoice– free
at last from latent dormancy
branching out
like any new endeavor:
hopeful, excited,
beautiful, and unsure,
while steadily responding
to innate primal cues.
Success comes by design
inherent and ever-present
in the nature within
when submitting to
the wisdom of the season
which will constantly change
throughout the merry-go-round of life
always wondrous
but never more fresh
or recurrent
than these few first days
of jubilation and release
when renewal starts all over again.
Polly Castor
5/1/15
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