Spring within

And I know no sentence should begin with an 'and.' But that was a hiatus and this is a continuation that will end in an ellipsis. For it ebbs and flows with seasonal tides. Spring showers and buds bursting forth in pinks and whites and yellows. I know the pale leather wet from splashing in puddles will dry down soft and pliable and will lose its bite. A little more room to wiggle, room to breathe. Swine flu and a smell of death in the air but this season promises green leaves so tender they smell like a baby's scalp. You know you believe in regeneration. While Cohen quotes the Gita -'You will never untangle the circumstances that brought you to this moment. Embrace your fate,' you laugh silently and know in your heart that you wanted to be here.