Eternal Hope in a Temporary Spring

There are wild berries smushed between the cobblestones
tiny caterpillars hanging from the Spanish moss

when they fall to the ground and get stomped on
they look just like the berries
their insides oozing purple, pink, and blue

Spring is here
and already halfway over
I am reminded of how temporary everything is

flowers wait all year to bloom
and three weeks later all that’s left
is their fleshy, wilted remains

a sign
that we should hold in reverence
the sacred time we are given to bloom

The other day I came home from my daily walk
to find a caterpillar had climbed into my shirt sleeve

he scared me and I flung him to the ground
before I could identify him
he’s harmless
fuzzy
and sweet

I reached for the closest flat thing near me
a sheet of velvet flower stickers
scooped him up and took him outside

in the minutes it took me to take him out there
I wondered:
how long is a day in caterpillar time?

—I tried to look this up but Google didn’t understand my question—

I put him in the grass and wondered if he’d find his way home again
back to his park
his family
the tree he fell from

if he made it,
what an odyssey

he’d have stories of humans
and what their foyer looks like
he’d say he rode an elevator
—assuming he knew what that was—

he’d say he made it across multiple intersections and sidewalks
he’d say that everything was working against him
and yet
against all odds
he made it home

it’s likely he won’t make it past the patch of grass I put him in
after all

there are birds, squirrels, boots, and bikes galore

I’m reminded that everything here
is temporary

love
and grief
and life
and disappointment too

Spring is here
and fleeting

soon it will be summer

let me not waste a moment
of this wild and precious
life1

Thank you for being here. I’ve recently realized that paywalling posts has taken a lot of the joy out of writing for me. I get stuck in this anxious loop of deciding which pieces are “worthy” of being paid for and which aren’t. And then there’s accessibility, which matters deeply to me. I want what I’ve learned, and the art that’s come from it, to feel attainable.

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with love,