the cherry blossom
has arrived
as if that is what
we were really waiting for.
from the poem “Cranes lean in” by Imtia Dharker
I’ve always liked to observe the world around me, but since I slowed down more because of a pandemic, I start to see my local piece more clearly. Every morning when I go out to do exercises by the river, I meet up over a dozen species of birds in twenty minutes. Before I usually heard the loudly screaming gulls like in a tube.
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The door to my house is blue. In the hall, yellow sneakers would like to go somewhere, but no one puts them on. Only the orange rocks from the painting by Roderic O’Connor look at them.
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I run along the river, again. The morning flows under my skin. The sun sketches relief in grey cells.
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When I make paper collages I cut out something from inside me: dreams, emotions, the future. Then suddenly I can walk on a lavender field in a green coat. Heathers grow out of my head. The cat smells like the sun.
Following my imagination, I am looking for what I miss.
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A crow flies from tree to tree, and I want to contemplate his velvet wings. Meanwhile, the bird sits between the leafless branches on the background of the clouds. He is staring at me. Why spring is missing today? – I swallow my thought with the air and almost run along my dear path as if I were running away.
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