Spring

Isn’t spring just the most wonderful, hip-hoppity time of the ding-dang year? YES!!! YOU KNOW IT IS!! DON’T DENY IT!! I know you all just love to run through all the pretty, green, grassy fields. Then roll in the long green grass, and smell all the pretty pink and purple flowers! You know you love to look at the clear blue sky and make shapes in the clouds and laugh for no reason at all! Oh spring! Oh the dawning of new life! How could you betray me! You came like a beacon of light, breaking through the darkness of the harsh winter, the bleak, dark winter! Oh how I wish you could last forever! Where do you go? Leaving the world behind to the hot and blistering days of summer? Take me with you! TAKE ME WITH YOU!!!! Don’t leave me hear alone! Don’t leave me to face the world on my own, with nothing but reality to rely on! Why? Why dost thou leave me? Have you forgotten all that I have done for you? Have you forgotten what I have done? Have you? HAVE YOU?!?!?!?! But alas, you cannot stay forever. This I know. And this, I have come to learn. Year after year, my realization grows clearer, that you must leave me. That you cannot stay for play. That off beyond the distance sea, you must go. You must go. Go. Leave me be. Oh how I despise good byes. Go. GO! GO!!! Please, the longer you stay, the more I miss you, your bright clear days, clean blue skies, and all your smells and sights. Leave me! Oh leave me. Leave me. Leave me, and remember me. For I shall surely remember you. Yes, remember you I shall. Always. And never forget what you have done for me. Never, never, never. I shall be here. Waiting. Yes, waiting. Waiting for the glorious day when you come back from wherever you have been for so long, so long. And when you come, it shall be a glorious day, a day of triumph, a day of joy. And I will be hear waiting. Waiting. Ever so patiently. And as I wait I--walk. I walk alone, down the middle of the road. It is dusk. Robins scurry in the street, and as I approach, they take flight, flapping there wings, only to land in the grass by the road side to find the worms brought up from the rains. It is quiet, peaceful. The trees are yellow and pink and in full blossom. The grass is dark green, and full. Long from not being mowed since the summer before. The sky is grayish-blue. Turning an orange-pink on the horizon as the sun sets behind the distant mountains. The silhouette of trees stand out against the sunset. Trees that have seen more than a lot of people. I wonder if they could talk, what stories they would tell. I walk on. The air is cool, and clear. I look east and see the Rocky Mountains. They are still capped with the late snow. Gray, and white, and brown. I wonder how long it will be until they change like the trees. Until they are green, and full of color. How long until time changes them too. As it does to everything. Always turning. We can never stop it. We grow older with the earth. Day by day, week by week, year by year. Until eventually, we are old and weak. Walking with a cane. We will no longer be able to run through the fields, and catch frogs in the pond. We look at ourselves, and look at the earth. The earth that has been growing with us our entire lives. And the lives of grandfathers, clear back to the beginning of time. And yet, it is young. It is alive as always, still fresh, like it hasn’t aged a day from the very beginning. And you wonder, if it ever will. Can the earth grow too old? No. It can’t. And it never will. And we will never fully discover all its secrets, all that it has to offer us. All that it is waiting to offer us.