Splotches of yellow, lavender, white pop up everywhere
Reminding us of the reliability of spring, her grace, her generosity.
On solitary walks through flowering gardens,
I think of you, Zev, on your silent, solo retreat in Vermont’s great woods.
I wiggle into your skin to smell the pines,
catch the nippy northern breeze,
hear an unexpected Hermit Thrush recital,
glimpse a bear, swallow the quietude,
be near you on your journey.
And then, flash! aha!
Comprehension.
Your remote retreat: a womb to await awakening.
Midwives all, birds, trees, squirrels.
What exquisite joy to gestate in Mother Nature’s nest!
Though my skin rough, the bark of fir,
I recall you parting from my loins,
hesitant to leave, then energized by soothing whirlpool waves,
determined to grasp the world.
And now, this opportunity to once again see light
amid the glories of Earth’s gifts.
Another beginning, a fresh take on sensuous synchronicity,
pleasure, pain, regeneration, loss.
Perchance to choose what you cherish,
to meet your newest self.
Lynn Benjamin
March 23, 2021