The Beautiful Green Days

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All winter long the mad gray giants raged, scouring and scratching at the ice covered sky.  Their brittle bone like fingers broke often.  With sharp snaps one piece after the other would go crashing down to the frozen earth.  There, adding their music to Winters. 




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Green is the color of the trees now.  They are growing fat too, on sap, and have covered their hands in soft leafy gloves.  No longer raging, they gently sweep puffy white clouds across the blue-blue sky.  It is the hue that covers everything, even the rocks that live in wet locales. 





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Early springs' favorite color is the many shades of green.  She dyes unchecked and I spin to see it all, missing twice as much as I catch.



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Changing the sheets or Replacing sweet comfort with careless luxury.

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Spring is here.  Summer is coming and I am glad that winter has left.  It is getting hot and turning green outside.  My big blankets are starting to keep me too warm.  Last night I stripped my bed of the fluffy green winter sheets, the ones that make me feel as if wrapped in a cocoon of sweet comfort.  I dressed my bed for the summer in regular cotton sheets the color of sand with circle patterns big and small.  When I looked down at the bed that I had just made a feeling of gratitude took me to my knees.  Mine are Blissful prayers.  As I lay in bed smiling and thinking about why I was feeling so happy the only thing that came to mind is the change in seasons.

 

Green has not always been my favorite color, so the symptoms of the deficiency surprised me.  In the springtime, I feel a great sense of hope, like an expectant mother.  Every morning I get out of bed, look out of my window, and smile at the subtle changes.  By the time summer arrives, I am fierce and full of energy, like the big strong baobab tree, I find myself gloriously centered.  Than the leaves begin to turn, signaling the end of summer.

Disappointment comes at me in full force, autumn in all her beauty has come.  A compelling urge to dress myself in all these colors consumes me.  I daydream of commissioning a beautiful autumn colored winter coat.  My thoughts and conversations are of the coming season “will we be having a calm or bitter winter this year?”.  In the winter, I experience a sadness that I medicate by doing nice things for myself, like spiking my morning coffee.  The entire season I spend eating homemade cakes and pies.  Thank God for Christmas.  Rugs and throws in every room and cheerful music on the radio.  Winter is spent waiting, waiting for spring to come again, waiting for the green.