the beauty of spring is only short lived, but the flower doesn’t care
the street is washed clean and the next day will forget the rain was purple
there’s an energy that you can feel only when something is balanced
we often have to slog through puddles of muck to get to the good stuff
sometimes, for new growth we cut off the branch that is no longer growing
i’d rather not know what is leftover after electric snow melts
when the skies are grey and the rains come, our shadows become reflections
the early spring rain stirs up the earth and makes the outside smell like worms
we keep ourselves safe by avoiding the shadows or so we believe
the unexpected is a fact of life yet we don’t prepare for it
uptown jack 