this morning i found an orange blossom resting on the ground. orange blossom is such an intoxicating scent; it burns into my sinuses with sweetness. sometimes i fantasize about wandering through an orange grove with someone, snagging a handful of blossoms, and crushing them against the places where his pulse hums beneath his skin. i imagine the resulting drunk, eyes watering from all the sweet, all the sharp bite, the white petals pressed to his neck.
i was almost back inside the house when i realized an ant had been resting in the blossom and was now waking up, jostled by my humanness. i thought about returning it to a spot nearby, next to a different orange tree. and then the ant climbed out onto my thumb and started combing the air with its antenna. i thought about the short walk from where i currently stood to where i found the orange blossom and how large that distance would be to a tiny ant. i imagined being unexpectedly ripped from sleep only to find myself in a strange place.
it took less than a minute for me to upend this ant’s world and less than a minute to set it right again.
i’m sure there’s a lesson here, but i’m too weary to look.
Woof. What a century 2025 has been already. It’s April, everything is scary AND in bloom. The birds and the bugs and the furry critters are feeling frisky. The mercury is creeping up. Everything is scary. It’s APRIL. And everything is scary. (It’s okay to be scared, exhausted, anxious, numb, confused, or however else you’re feeling right now. Lean into your community. Sit in nature. Make art. Make love. Find joy and hope in whatever you can find joy and hope in. I love you.)
It dawned on me this evening that I’ve neglected to post the three poems I’ve written for this month, so you will find them below, along with the text. I’ve also picked up a pseudonym, which I am still experimenting with, but I already LOVE using. It’s a nod to my matriarchal line and a tribute to myself. I don’t care if you think that’s conceited. It’s my name, not yours 🙂
Prompts of “sun-steeped marigolds” and “unturned stone” from my goddess, Prudence Brooks (buy “Truce“!)
april showers bring may flowers
so i unzip my heart and spread wide its chambers invite in the deluge of hope to every hidden corner and forgotten hollow of my dreams
surely this drown will yield a vast field of wildflowers for the bees and the wasps, my stamen will tremble and my pollen will spread
my resilience falling over sun-steeped marigolds and all of the unturned stones my feet have yet to touch on the adventure back to myself
lover, your secrets tattoo my skin in ribbons of silver and lilac
i long to become the song bird perched on your window sill in the apricot dawn
will you open your palm for my tiny talons? will you leave me seeds of love to store for winter?
tattoo my simple songs on your tender heart; the flutter of my wing against your cheek in spring
Prompt/idea from @amykaypoetry on Instagram
i don’t want to set work goals
i want to stand on a beach made of sea glass. to watch the pacific churn with energy. to hear the surf fizzle over the sand and pebbles. the deep rhythmic thud of waves against the ocean floor. against the exposed rock. i want the waves to sneak up on me while i am watching with eyes wide open. i want the icy fingers to loop my bare ankles. to suck the sand from under my feet. i want to sink my heels into the dissolving earth as i am lifted. carried. buoyed by the energy. limbs akimbo, a wounded octopus. driftwood on the open water. directed by the currents. final destination: tba
loose threads 