The winter frost has settled in more in late January, and February’s looking like snow. The excitement at the white flakes falling still gets my skin tingling but already I ache for the sun.
The plants in this house have gone dormant, lack of sun and lack of true warmth; we keep it cool inside. The blooms and growth fill me with prosperity and elsewhere, it could work.
Even though I bounce between different thoughts, different wants, different dreams, this is the one I’m going for. My own baby roots are going to be moved and I hope I don’t suffer much from shock of a transplant.
I think I may be a peace lily, easily to weep for what I need, easy to spring back once I get it.
Black Magic Words 