small colors

Birthing blooms vines leaves
my window spring morning fresh
I see

Bushes, trees, and fields
popping with small colors.
Newborns, eyes closed.

The sun brushing
the spring flowers
with light fingers

Their fragrance drifts
on the breeze
a sweet, arresting scent

That makes me consider
the many forms
of power
.

-
words and images:
Karyn Eisler, Mel Bosworth
Steve Wing, Dorothee Lang

distilled from the garden party
at Living ?s, (still open + ongoing)
pieced together by DL