#314 - Hawthorne buds

It is almost hard to explain why the world is so beautiful in spring. Yesterday the park was still looking drab; I gravitated towards the cherry plum trees, looking diaphanous and radiant, because there is not much else that is out. But every tree is full of promise. The twigs are swelling and, here and there, the feathery tips of green and silver leaves are showing. Next to the cherry plum, a hawthorn bush looked grey and wintery, but the long thorns were covered in tiny pink nubs. The whole world is humming with expectation. It makes me think of a poem by the Afro-Guyanese poet, John Agard:

But sometimes
you know
when I see
de rainbow
so full of glow
and curving
like she bearing child
I does want know
if God
ain't a woman

If that so
the woman got style
man she got style