Each year, spring catches me by surprise.
The wind is no longer howling at me,
slapping me in the face,
or whipping my hair into a mass of tangles.
It seems to have grown tired of baring its wintry grin. It no longer
finds amusement in sending that
familiar piercing pain into the hollows of my ears.
Its anger vented, I am now greeted
by its warm, forgiving caress.
Now, it gently tosses my hair, fragrancing it with all of the scents of the
earth it has carried from land to land. I am refreshed by it.
The world seems reborn, innocent once again.

My son has been alive now for two years.
As I watch him running through the tender grass I am struck by the
realization that this is a rare and glorious moment for both of us.
The grass is younger than he.
It is new and fresh and suitable for his tiny feet.
He calls to me, “Mama! Look! I running!”
His wide eyes soaking in the splendor of spring.
His rosy cheeks emmitting innocence, new life.
For this one, peaceful afternoon, I do not worry that this world is not
good enough for my son.

I am content in knowing that he is here and safe with me. I am able to
enjoy him fully.
I am filled with the joy of motherhood.
In an instant I have no regrets, no worries.
My mind is free.
I treasure this rare moment in my life and allow it to linger.

My son has become engaged in a game of chase with a lemon yellow butterfly.
He thrusts his tiny hands in front of him, grasping the air with his
delicate fingers.
A bird glides through the powdery blue sky above us.
It calls out loudly and I am certain that it,
too, is relishing this spring day.
Already, the trees have covered themselves in fresh,
dreamy shades of pastel.
The clouds, having shed themselves of their winter grey coats,are now
fluffy, white sponges soaking in the sun. All of nature has joined me this
day to celebrate the awakening of springtime.

The breeze catches my son’s curly locks in its gentle dance.
Lightly, it brushes my face sweeping away all remnants of winter.
The sun no longer stares distantly from a a dark, cold sky.
It smiles upon us, happy to send a blanket of warmth and fertility across the land.
The butterfly has left to search for another child to tease.

My son, running towards me now, reminds me of my not so distant childhood.
I am comforted in knowing that he shall enjoy nature’s treasures just as I did and still do.
Times may have changed since I was a child, but my son doesn’t know that.
All that he knows is the beauty of life and the innocence of youth.

Copyright, 1998. Kimberly A.Smartt

Flashback

The silky, black sky envelopes me tonight;
I feel so small, yet so huge, beneath its twinkling lights;
I search the billowing darkness, waiting for some sign;
Growing impatient, I see nothing until I fear I am blind;
Like lazer beams, my eyes burn through the stars;
Through the wormholes, the dips and the galactical scars;
I sear through the flesh of a sky gone to bed;
A voice tries to distract me, I don't know what he said;
My body is lost, I have no form, shape or size;
I cannot be dead for my heart is alive;
I am drowning in the echoes of its noisy vibrations;
Freed from the pain, my only creation;
Finally in tune with the celestial rhythm;
Lights showering me, glowing through a heavenly prism;
Flashback for a moment, his voice like a flame;
I feel nothing as I realize I do not know his name.

Copyright, 1998. Kimberly A.Smartt