Springtime

In the fields, there are dustings of flowers like confetti left over from a party, sprinkled over the land so randomly, yet beautiful in their chaos. 

Leaves slowly unfurl from their cocoons, caterpillars turning into butterflies only to fall again next year. 

And I saw a bear cub the other day, fresh out of the den, scared of the world hiding behind its mother as it lifts its nose to the wind to smell its new world. 

Sun pours down, bright and warm in the spirit of springtime as bumblebees frolic in the dandelions, who bear their bright yellow manes with pride in their abundance. 

In Springtime, life has returned, new yet so old in the evolutionary cycle of millennia. 

 

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wildcat

VT

15 years old

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  • Poetry

    By wildcat

    Dear Mother

    Dear Mother, 

    I have missed you these past few months. 

    Where did you go? 

    I see you standing there, torch held high, yet you do not answer my calls. 

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  • Poetry

    By wildcat

    What Does It Take to See?

    What does it take to see the dandelions blooming in the spring, yellow manes bobbing in the wind?

    What does it take to see the sun slanting through the windows, to hear the tree frog's chorus in the night?

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  • Poetry

    By wildcat

    A Tree

    I talked to a tree just the other day, I was walking past and it did say,  

    Well, what are you? 

    Just a traveler. 

    But what are you? 

    Why, a human, of course, you didn’t know? 

    Read More