Spring comes
The grass grows
By itself

When I was growing up, one of my mom’s friends made little notes that were posted inside cabinet doors in our kitchen. The Zen-like poem above was one of them. It was accompanied by a little watercolor sketch of a tuft of grass.

Another of the notes read: “Stop worrying! It’s bad for your blood pressure!” which is just another way of saying the same thing. I don’t remember when these notes first appeared, but they became part of the kitchen landscape, along with the yellowing recipe cards tacked up inside the cabinet door where the baking supplies were stored.

Today spring comes. Nothing we did brought it; nothing we could do could stop it. Outside the scene is much the same as yesterday — a cold wind blowing a few dried leaves across the yard. But I know the warmth is coming.