when it rains it pours
i am like mother nature.
there are dry periods.
when the grass turns brown
and the leaves fall off
and there are wet periods
when you can't keep up with reading emails
there are seasons of me
sometimes i do not have something to say
sometimes i will say it anyway
sometimes i need to be quiet
i count on you to understand.
there are pruning periods
when big limbs get cut off
we are both afraid
feel the loss
do not know what will grow
instead, if anything
storms knock down big branches
we will weather these things
the slow growth.
i remember the bristlecone pines
in colorado
where my dad's ashes,
well half of them
are scattered.
they grow so very slowly
because there is no water
they are sacred trees
very old
twisted and battered by the wind
we grow when it rains
we are green
we make hay while the sun shines
we hibernate
all these things we do
we are like mother nature
i will call and tell you about everything
that happens
that is my job
it is sacred
it is chosen