Your frosted petals
As the Full Moon illuminating the Darkness of the Night
As the fresh blanket of Snow that cradles her Winter Survivors
As the thick Mist that settles into Valleys and rises into Mountains
With Grace and Mysterious intent.
As the Soil from which you emerge so delicately
Which has endured generations of Natural Influences to earn such Exquisite Richness
As the Swallowtail Butterfly whose wings beat to the Rhythm of your gracious arrival
As the sweet fulcrum that marks the annual passage from Winter to Spring
Your blossoms signify a rite of passage.
I have endured yet another long, cold Winter
And met with the deepest, darkest parts of myself.
My roots have held valiantly to the Ancient Mystery, the Source of Life.
My Roots. My Blood. My Destiny.
From the Depths of this Mystery, I emerge
The Source has infused my Being with Courage and Gnosis.
Green Shields pop up like Groundhogs in Spring.
Introduced to the Landscape by Lindera’s towering golden blossoms.
New Life, fertilized by Primal Energy
Cradled by Autumn’s fallen Foliage
Unfurls within an intimate Embrace.
I reacquaint the Woodland-filtered Sun with newfound humility, gratitude, patience and glory.
May we continue this journey with Mutual Respect and Everlasting Inspiration.