MIRACLES OF SPRING
While answering questions about my writing in an Interview with the publisher, two plump robins engage in a mating dance on snow-crusted grass outside my window. They fly their affair into the maple, bare as a February field, and find foothold in the crook of a branch for spring is coming and there's work to be done.
The miracle of the greening.
The poets at What's Going On (the mighty foursome!) reminded me that all around there are miracles in our midst. We only have to stop and look to see the plump robin in a new light, how she fends off the blue jays through patience and perseverance.
Then there's the first pop of green in the towering birch trees that seemed to happen overnight.
Speaking of miracles, my launch party at Inscribe Books went off without a hitch! Another miracle. A day I dedicated to my grandma who bolstered my fragile self-esteem through adolescence; to my father who collated copies of my early poems, bound them together with his stapler and titled the collection The Farmer’s Daughter; and to Mother who always wanted to know what I was doing if I hadn’t stopped in for a visit—immersed in a novel I regretfully never shared with her.
I'm sorry Mom.
I wish you had been here.
I reacquainted with some long lost friends tonight at our local library, coming together over a book. Now that's a miracle! It's a miracle that this book is out in the world. A miracle that someone wanted to interview little ol' me. Proof that (yes Mother) patience pays off and perseverance is a virtue.