Old jacaranda with lavender blooms
Framed by the gray of a sky in late May
Birds sing a song with a longing for summer
Wind whispers back holding fast onto spring
The days will grow longer
The grass greener still
On the cusp of season defined by the spill
Of a billion bright colors
They're coming! They're coming!
All summer hearts practice patience until
Holding my breath for many things these days:
for sweet summer freedom, for the cucumbers in my garden to grow,
for the paint on my canvas to dry, for replies,
for this dream of a project to take root in reality.
Reminding myself to breath, to have patience with myself and my circumstances.
All things happen in their rightful season.