The Flower Creature

A flower bulb in blossoming

a tiny upturned face

plump with spring

eyes as curious as fey

a smile to awe

a laugh to be

such a precious creature

tiny fingers clutch to me

a tiny cheek

pressed

soft and strange

to my weathered neck

I thought I was young

without name

but I am as old as I feel

 little arms around my shoulders

betell my years

 I am not so delicate

so easy to wonder

give wide eyed

give wandering touches

so free

this new creature

so eager

to love

to learn

its hair a whisper of silkiness

its teeth tiny imprints

its voice peeling

unraveling

with excitement

I can’t remember being a child

when I left it

why

I would be child

I would believe

and be

I wish I was

I wish all days

I forgot

so to begin

so to see

as I see

not with fast paced judgment

but with slow captivating awe

cleanse me of critique

bath me in undefinable

I yearn to live

I yearn to be born

let my hands

spill over every surface

in appreciative gaze

how

what

where

when

why

why!

so wonderful

I would trade places

to feel its skin

the way it feels mine

This creature

of tiny worlds

in such a great space

I would look upon it

as it looks upon me

curious

confused

willing

ready

so certain

a baby

a child

it’s hearts pitter patters

against my too large one

and I am not small enough

I want to crawl

into its opportunity

let us

LOOK UPON EACH OTHER

without any sense

using our senses

to feel

to inspire

 to giggle

to enjoy

let us be

we will give such

lovely tasting

to the rich lushness of life

every flavor

to marvel upon

oh,

oh!

let me start over

I would so like to be spring

a flower

dewy

budding

so full

with nothing to do

but be whole

and love

if not

give me this creature

let me adore it

give me many creatures

I shall cherish them all

as if

like

if only

I was

as they

every envy

every jealousy

every yearning

will be a love

onto itself

for I will know

with every insight

they birth

and just

adoring

I shall mother to spring

every spring

so there will always be spring

for all of us who grew up

with out an inkling

of what we were leaving

without promise

of a flower

to wonder upon

spring always

spring come.

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