But not me.
The party having started.
I was the invisible,
Could I witness?
Participate? Not a chance
Fate’s invitation did not include me.
So I would watch through the window,
Imagine when the rain danced on
The water, the grass, the petals,
Of my interrupting and feeling
Each drop against my skin,
Hearing it as it falls.
I would watch from my station as flowers
Pop up and then all of the sudden open.
As butterflies and bees go to work,
Kissing each bloom.
One day Fate’s invite will arrive,
And My body well enough for me to
Partake. Then my dance card
Will be full,
Soaking up the warm sun,
Playing in the soft green grass,
Basking in the flowers’ chitchat,
The march of the bees,
The songs of the birds,
And the laughter of the kids.
One day I will be part of spring.
by Cecilia Baldwinby