Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

Spring = HOPE “Peacock Pavement”

“It’s always spring within”

Spring means beginning, freshness, newness. It starts small – barely recognizable – the tiniest frond of green among the blackness, calling forth an answering shiver from somewhere deep inside us.

We are told that every cell in our body replaces itself in seven years, so springtime is a constant within us. The best thing about Spring, to my way of thinking, is that it replaces winter. I am not a winter person, though I am told some are. I usually experience a sense almost of hopelessness, right before the end. Spring is the cure for hopelessness. Spring is hope itself.

In the darkest season of loneliness, we must find reason for hope, and the reason is always the same: refreshment and rebirth are coming. We participate in the rejuvenation of the world. We transform ourselves into turnaround specialists, turning around hopelessness and a quitter mentality into can-do optimism & strategies.

The green plant finds a way to surge forth, the beetles wait in the earth until their time is right, the egg contains a perfect hummingbird. So we strip away our fears, negativity and hopelessness to foster the growth inside, growth in the belief that our Soulmate is right around the corner.

PEACOCK PAVEMENT

Femininity has its Everests –
I will climb them daily.
The crow’s belly’s is black,

Envy his womb-less contentment as I stroll 
Among the old wrappers, used condoms;
Joints rolled tight as bedsheets

Letters used – abused – discarded.
Crow envies me my
Zircon hair; a lunar map of freedom,

Battering-ram jaw, baroque nose, the
 Greek depths through which
My eyes record their wanderings

Outside the convent walls, between
The stalls, corrals, the chained-up lambs,
The leaf-filled swimming pools:

First act, second act, third act
Epilogue. Number days by counting
Depth marks round your taproot

Showing off sporadic questings not my own
Belonging to some future – all
Unknowing what anyone will make

Of these Portentous Pleiades:
Disparate sisters,
Me, myself and I.