Soul Searching

Fresh Cut Grass

Breathe deep.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Breathe in the aroma of Spring.

Pinstripes paint the lawn like a banker’s suit.

Lonely blooms remain, refugees from the mower’s cruel cuts.

Now rest and soak in the smell, the tidiness of the garden.

Gaze at the deep azure sky where clouds dare not spoil the view.

The deep rich flavors of a fresh cup of coffee cross my lips and warm my belly.

A bit of the winter chill remains in the air and, yes, winter feet.

But sunshine and warmth radiate over my face.

Ah, the peaceful feeling that gives me strength.

That tells me winter is but a memory and the season of rebirth is upon me.

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