Do you remember just when the sun came out yesterday? Its warm petals reaching everyhere? Just after the verdict? It was exactly then when I was bending over its operatic offspring with an offering of water, when it so sweetly blossomed widely overhead, across every sky, where for a moment we all existed in a soft-focused halo of prayer. Gosh, golly, these singing sunshines still bring out the weep in me. When did I plant all these? Last year? Two years ago? Ten? Their willingness to come up and shine, even after their perfunctory, faithless, forgotten, handling, the rushed burying of their souls in the most reluctant of soil, awakens deep germinating guilt-grief in a way so many words and lost hugs cannot. Even beneath my longest shadow—then, now—here they are, here they are, here they are, being their always selves. How can I hug them back? 💛
