Trees branches are the roots of the sky

The one silver lining about COVID-19: it’s now acceptable to wander around outside wearing a mask and not die of allergies.

I no longer hate spring.

I found myself beginning to examine and appreciate this cycle of renewal, blossoms unfurling their canvas, new fawn ambling alongside their mothers, birds calling out for their lovers.

In the park I locked eyes with a man pushing a baby stroller, wife and dog in tow—a death I narrowly avoided.

Car tires rumble off in the distance, the same as ocean waves. Am I still sitting silent, waiting to be swept away from here?

Before, I thought I would tumble around this planet forever, my roots never finding the soil to latch onto.

Before, I viewed myself an alien observer, too foreign to participate in the choir of humanity, not without imitating the notes.

Before, I accepted a conviction that I will ultimately end up by myself, swallowed under layers of calcification.

Today, I am sprouting in an unexpected crack in the concrete.

Today, I am seeing the beauty in aliens & humans learning from each other.

Today I am softening, like melting snow. ▲

Published by Terry 4 years ago on Sunday the 19th of April 2020.

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