Most days, most days stay the sole same
Please stay, for this fear it will not die
Down low, down amongst the thorn rows
Weeds grow, through the lilies and the vines
Please stay, for this fear it will not die
Down low, down amongst the thorn rows
Weeds grow, through the lilies and the vines
Motherhood suits the Spring; She is the bringer of new life, the opener of flowers, the awakener of trees. She is the essence of newness, the scent of the year’s first rain, the blade of grass peeking through Winter’s last snowfall. She is the harbinger of Summer, the voice which heralds the coming months of comfort.
Most importantly, she is the season who welcomes the children into life.
Upon this spring day, however, Mother Spring takes leave from her three darlings (wolf-child, ivy-child, rain-child) and seeks the solace of the Meadow. What solace she finds in the memories is questionable (was she not forced into love by her sister to a whoremonger of a man, was she not tormented in her weakness by Eight, was she not seduced into the loss of her virginity to that very same magician only some years later), but perhaps it is the thought of new acquaintances which so appeal to her. It has been ages since she’s been away. She’s been ravelled in her own legacy, sprinting from lover to lover, seeing to her magical children, and sometimes visiting the Deserts. While the world outside has been roaming from season to season, Mother Spring has been stuck in a rut. Perhaps this is her way of struggling out of it.
When she enters the Meadow, it booms into activity. The grass stretches higher, the flowers are more vibrant, and the bunnies come in hoards to eat the newly created clovers. A herd of deer sweep through the land, frolicking gaily in the presence of their Mother. Wherever one may glance, the glory of spring is magnified by one thousand. She smiles at the thought (a smile which resides on alabaster bark instead of skin, bark which cracks reveal a glorious red undertone with a faint glowing green just beneath it. Red willow branches brush against her neck and hocks, and in her mane and tail, white dogwood flowers grow with glowing green centers. Finally, where normal eyes should be, pupilless orbs lay, glowing the same Kelly-green as the rest of her glowy parts.)
noori