Starting A New Paragraph

While we were gone,
the leaves have
begun to come out
as the forsythia cadmium,
which was so bright
when we left, wanes.
Our weeping cherry tree
is in bloom and becomes
less pink each day,
but fortunately,
it has remained cool enough
that we didn’t miss it entirely.
The tree applauds our arrival,
fluttering and pirouetting
in the tender breeze.
The regimented tulips
stand at attention
lined up in flanks,
trumpeting to us
as helpful heralds
for this new section
of our year.

I’m overwhelmingly glad to be home.
It is good to go places, see people,
and do things you usually don’t do,
but ah my own bed– those
deliciously clean flannel sheets,
our perfect blueberry pancakes
made special with tangy lemon zest,
eaten at our own sunshiny table,
the work phone insisting
I jump right in. Instead,
I emerge gently.
I breathe it all in,
reflect, unpack,
(not leaving the suitcase
languishing in the bedroom
for a week), and vacuum
my office/studio floor,
which is long overdue.
I refill my ink pens.

Holidays and trips,
project completions,
and important events,
segment our year,
pivoting us to renewal,
like a new paragraph
to be filled with
prepositions and action verbs,
observation and emphasis,
sentiment and punctuation.

After this recent detour,
it feels good
not to want
to be anywhere else.
Maybe finally
I’ll start to
really do and say
what needs to be
said and done.
And oh! to paint again,
to do meaningful work,
hike my old haunts,
to read and muse,
embrace and uphold:
to watch the world–
not just my own chapter–
continue to unfold.

by Polly Castor
4/24/24