She sat hunched over in her chair,

seeing nothing,

in her own world.

Was she still there?

Softly touching her shoulder, I

told her Luna

was here. Out of

blankness, boredom,

she straightened up, smiled, and love streamed

from hands and mouth.

A blind woman,

a tender dog.

Trees,

heavy with ice,

bow down to the earth.

People

bombarded with lies,

bow to the liar.

I deadhead the daffodils, once beautiful, now fading,

so I can see the purple flowers on the copper ajuga.

I think that sometimes to see beauty,

we have to shed what once was,

what we held on to for so long….

memories, expectations, dreams.

Only then can we see the tender shoots

of new growth, of new beginnings.

Diamonds in the grass,

frosted spider webs in a roadside ditch,

weeping willow branches a tender green.

What else is there on my path,

seldom noticed but there,

waiting to reveal itself?

Often it is the unexpected

that brings us joy.

A wrong turn, a red stoplight,

children laughing,

a single daffodil pushing up.

Embrace them all!