05/01/2019
from Stephanie Bee -
Do we know then why exactly in a city should a forsythia bloom earlier than usual?
Is it a mechanical simple process of +temperature correlates directly to an earlier bloom?
Is it because the brick, memory driven in the worn out extractive industries, soaks up and then beams heat to coax out the early sun-yellow of the forsythia's plexus joy...
Inspiring subtly somehow all to continue laboring, carrying bits of something from here to there
From there to here
From hmm not quite here but there now, maybe, but also maybe not quite
And
Stopping but only for a small moment to swipe in slipping, sliding fashion the calloused hand across the hardened brow, to drink in the satisfaction of the toil as the turmoil wrought in industry comes crashing down around plain as day? Plain as blossoming blooming early-sun-yellow?
The brick that when the storied facade of such illusions crumble to fine dust that
When chewed by worms and through them then runs red memories making their sheen attractive to the fish- the creatures with the more amorphous aqueous memories of form and boundary in water.
Does the sweat squeezed and pickled out of our skin, in spherical drops congealing us to a sheen, dripping when gathered, count as harvest? Is that the myth still upon us now?
Do we know why exactly in a city should a forsythia bloom earlier than usual?
Could is also be the early tiny-footed footstepping and many buzzing living wondered songs of spring waking to the alarm of warm and worm to work and also become hungry?
And maybe this early sun yellow forsythia is apt to their yearning, before even low-growing dandelion, open with scant, sweet, nectar, scent, and all things subtle and glorious to the senses and antennae of this material existence. Opens and holds the fort of beauty in uncompromisong reciprocity also rise earlier out of half-restful half-fretful sleep and elevate its radiance in the pure love of necessity, giving thanks and sustenance to all of life rotating round its glowing crown in spiraled space.
And forsythia with the ranunculus and aconite rise early, in 2019, for the ants and bees to feast in moderation early upon it, and bear message to dandelion, daffodil, tulip, buttercup, the message to sleep in so they may finish resting before bursting from their yawning bulbs
And the early fuzzy sleepy heads of ducklings, following in clutched and awkward, quick and webbed wobbles behind their mother skirting the traffic of the creature given to its bricks and work,
And mothers of these creatures similar become ducks at corners, clutching their broods and leading the way scurrying through their worlds
What love is this so that trees quivering and woken shimmering shiver with green slices of leaf and flower may later become a hum of harmonious chaos
As life
As always, usualy, and forever
Casually
Miraculously
Celebrates--
Creates
Itself
