When babies enter this world, they firstly hear, and then they see. I like to awaken so gently, and spring is the sweetest awakening. I like to absorb the sunlight with my eyes closed to firstly process the busy birds, the whisper of warming breezes; then to open my eyes and see the manifestation of what my mind was dreaming.
Such is spring. It mingles with the muse, awakens the inner fire, it stirs the mind to swirl the quill, and it makes us dream of how we would unfold the moments of life if the choice were ours – and it is.
Our minds are awakening and we are dreaming in waking reality, dreaming of what will become. I (via Middle Island Press) hope to assist many poets this year to sow poetic seeds in the dawn of day, the spring of the cyclic year, that they may experience their dream of getting published as it blossoms to full fruition.