Been in a bit of a funk for months grappling with seasonal and hormonal changes some of them no doubt growing pains and pangs..thangs of fancying myself a bit of an empath pushing past doldrums of everyday to daydreaming and twirling like the Dervish into a world where women and girls are valued…especially Black women and girls ’cause that’s what I know, my flow as a disabled Black woman.
But spring is here now and dis here my juke-joint so I’ma keep spinning and grinning right past melancholy and malaise into days of sun-soaking and fun-poking. And it’s about high time I throw on the fedora and red lipstick ’cause this chick is feeling it. I’d kick my heels up if I could get my legs that high but gravity ain’t always been my friend so I’ll keep my balance, feet on the ground stepping with this staccato-stride.
Late budder, I’ve sometimes been but then again maybe I’m right on-time sans comparison. My conditions for growth and rebirth need just.. the.. right tilling and reconstitution of soil. If I’m rushed by self or outside force my crop offering spoils and my output incomplete. Well now that just defeats the purpose and what surfaces is less than star-quality but mediocrity, if I’m self-critiquing….well-meaning and wise enough to know now that even in “failure” there is still achievement.
And so in due time, ample space, sufficient conditions….I bloom.
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Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Headline image: animated navy blue night sky with twinkling stars, yellow and white flowers in various stages of bloom, some in bold, others faded