JOY
When it comes back to teach you
or you come back to learn
how half alive you’ve been,
how your ignorance and arrogance
have kept you deprived —
when it comes back to you
or you yourself return,
joy is simple, unassuming.
Red tulips on their green stems.
Early spring vegetables, bright in the pan.
The primary colours of a child’s painting,
the first lessons, all over again.
Thomas Centolella
Though it was nearly a month ago when I posted my poem, Call Me Caprice, describing the often ambivalent arrival of an Alberta spring, given this week’s snow storm and persistent cold, I could have posted it again! Instead I opted for optimism, trusting red tulips and daffodils will eventually blossom forth from more than the flower shop’s bouquet.
It’s been nearly as long since I last posted…and I hope to muster up my own words for a blog on Monday. In the meantime, much love and kindest regards, dear friends.
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A Wabi Sabi Life 
Spring will come! Hang in there.
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