They gather on the doorstep, the corners of the garage door
and hide under the rosemary.
Light as feathers, rough like dry leaves, they tumble in waves.
Their colors fade to pink echoes of a fiery past
when all energy was on living and being.
Silent, in those splendid days, they now have a voice:
murmurs bristle and rustle.
Herded by light gusts, they move aimlessly
on flagstone and sing as they go.
Some escape into the house, explore the kitchen,
slide on the tiles, then skirt the edge of a rug
and pause for breath.
A trio, stopped by a cross draft, changes direction
and takes an untraveled by-pass near a footstool.
They observe the cluttered desk
and rasp their disapproval as they move on.
But a fat one, faded, a bit mangled and tired,
decides to cling and stay there,
Others, shuffled by the wind,
find the pool and jump in to live their unlived life
as light pink spinnakers outrunning ripples.
Tiny, stable catamarans ply blue water
floating and twirling in pairs
to the music of the morning breeze…
They are too beautiful to dismiss,
their colors too subtle to ignore,
and too lively not to hear.
They still invite a touch, a tracing, an inquiry…
A desire rushes to preserve what they are right now,
in the late afternoon of their journey,
to find a purpose for all that wondrous abundance …
So I gather them, pile them in a tall vase
hoping to prolong the enchantment.
I hold them in cupped hands, skin on skin.
But nearly weightless, I can barely feel them.
Like air-kisses: an intention,
but the heart stays hungry…
I love them.
They thrill me.
They move me;
budding, in their full glory,
or in their last paper-thin whispers,
it doesn’t matter.
I want to finger and follow
the paths and patterns of their veins,
the color of their blood,
the graceful ebbing of burning pigments
into soft pastel shades.
I want to write on each petal ‘love always’
And I want to listen to their stories.
I want to hear the giggles and gossips…
So I open the doors wide,
let them roll in at will
at the mercy of the wind.
And I listen and walk among them
sharing their peace as I look for mine.