Flow

I see her restlessly hopping from flower to flower
A pattern of busy
no end in sight
no pause to reflect
no deep breath to reset

Inside an igloo of creative flow,
she resides, skimming petals with intricate designs,
premiering a twinkle of ideas–
for us to spy.
Her giggles of glee gloss over our street
and it’s hard not to be infected by it.

The season’s changing
and we are all riding the wave
just like her–
erupting with intentions
all over the place.

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