I love this time of year — one foot stepping away from dismal winter, the other turning toward spring’s pulsating energy and invigorating growth.
Mother Nature turns her pages as weeping cherry blossoms invite sleepy trees to leaf out. Rosettes emerge beneath woody stalks from last year’s Autumn Joy…lifeless looking rosebushes begin to swell…rain purges pollen while transforming blue skies into grey and flourishing winter’s grass resplendent green…alluring buds rouse allergies yet spring’s intoxicating sights and scents are ecstasy to my spirit.
Insensate winter unfolding to scintillating spring — assurance that endings are beginnings.
“It feels as though the beginning and the end are intertwined, thus leading to a never-ending cycle. Surely this will not be the end. Just as it can’t be considered the beginning. Just as it can’t be determined where the beginning or the end is.”
Bleeding hearts emerging at this time of year remind me of all the compassionate Moms, their generous hearts, inner beauty, and unconditional love. Somehow these mothers don’t readily give up, resilient with an abundance of blind faith and patient hope.
Still, I doubt there is a mother whose heart has not been broken at one time or another in child rearing. I’ve known a number of Moms who could be considered dangerously softhearted, to the point of not honoring their own needs or health. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that these Bleeding heart beauties appear in time for Mother’s Day… or that they are perennials, steadfastly returning year after year. Isn’t Mom always there for you too?
My Magnificent Magnolia greets me as I sip a morning latte’ and bids me goodnight in the moonlight. Standing gloriously amidst an evening rain or grey sky, her steadfast glow casts a brilliance though my window. I am awash in awe.
We’ve been together for decades now — she being here long before I moved in. Maturing into a queen of nature’s beauty, this Magnificent Magnolia is my focal point during morning Qigong, and before turning in to sleep, I give her one last loving look.
Too many times the formidable April rains scattered her petals to the ground by morning’s light or before I’ve arrived back home, a disappointment paralleled to not having a chance to say goodbye.
But, I understand the inevitable better now and cherish each look at her grandeur. It may be the last but it stirs me as profoundly as her first bloom. Silently, she reminds me to appreciate what I have right now. In a second, it can be gone.