In relationships, it is so hard not to keep SCORE – this thing that a therapist that I had once called “stamp collecting.” All the little bits and pieces of being with someone, added up in columns, pluses and minuses until you DROOP under the weight of it all. I want to sweep it all away, wipe it out with a BROAD brush. Start fresh, as tender and delicate as a new FROND, growing up from a fern on the mossy woodland floor. Loved and appreciated for simply being, a small magical bit of existence.

Georg’ann

Letting quiet GUIDE me
as the capricious ocean within
crashes and calms, moves
toward then recedes. Becomes
steady sea once again.

Crave to HOARD this stillness,
ensure there’s always a store available,
like Frederick the mouse collecting
color and sensations
to brighten the winter WORLD.

Here I remember.
Inside an ocean. Outside
on the path, a soft spiral uncoils.
It is spring.
The fern FROND unfurls.

Heather