Sometime after March arrived it got hot. And the weather warmed up too. I've found solace in opening the windows once again and letting in something fresh. The musty scent of too-oft-slept-in sheets and stale sex was cleared out and something akin to the Snuggle Bear moved in.
The government was still evil but society began to awaken. Ratings were down, hope was up. I cycled my way to work and back and did my part for the betterment of society. My integrity lifted about 10 notches on the scale of human worth. Got hooked and hooked again. And let myself off the hook. Must have found a use for those opposable thumbs. My cat taught me how.
Meditated and lost focus and tried again to find the purity of a new season. Struggled to find the patience of Winter in union with the unencumbered essence of Spring. Set goals, daily. Goals of enjoyment. Presence. Calm. Happy is a good one. Got that one down.
Found myself dancing in my own house, alone and ecstatically happy. Found myself questioning whether I was crazy. Talked to myself walking. Talked to myself cycling. So I spent a lot of time on the phone talking to... well, all sorts of folk. And it's resulted in all kinds of social activity. But I still talk to myself and I still dance in my house. And now I feel bad for the people who don't do so. What's with all the quiet concern for themselves? Let loose baby, it's Spring.
Found myself singing not only in my car now but also on my bicycle, on a run, walking around. You can't handle the singing? Try it yourself sometime. What are you embarrassed by? You're own happiness? Your ability to express joy? How sad. Spring isn't time for sad. It's renewal. Blossoming. It's flowers opening. It's sexual. Birds and bees and all that. Breasts and such. Fish tacos, carnitas tacos, pink tacos. Patties of sizzling meat from the hunt. Raw energy. Sun dance. Rain dance. Allowing circumstance to be heated.
Spring is upon us. The daylillies are in full bloom: pink, yellow, orange and maroon. The roses are abundant and clear and strong. Herbs are popping up for blessing, for eating, for smelling, for consumption in the purist form. Bulbs have burst into the air releasing their signal that all is well.
Time for BBQ. Parties. Dress in your summer duds and have an iced latte. Thank the universe for putting you somewhere that you needn't focus on a bomb dropping upon your head or a religious cult telling you to wear a smock, frock, shlock or otherwise. Groove to your own tune and listen to the music; take note of the symphony all around.
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