Gardening,sun and lupus............

For those of you who know I have lupus; the sun can be friend and foe
Here is a poem I awoke with late last night inspired by the green lushness of spring. I put it to written word.

A hot spring night's dream of a gardener's lament

Immediately I feel myself drift from winter into spring. The long cold dark gives birth to steamy-musty spring air and I am caught somewhere in between two worlds. I know the frost covered leaves give way to green blossoms as a sneaky little tease. I sweat under our comforter and feel heat flush over my body like an internal wind carried by each deep sigh. I yield the impulse to walk to an open window and breathe the moist outside air; fresh with abundance and hope for a fruitful year of growth, heat and sun. I am foredoomed by the sun as well; that hot orb as a double edged sword for those of us who should fear the fate of the suns powerful rays. Those of us affected by its biting, burning beams of bright light can see the scars it leaves behind. They are stronger than clouds of cold and more brutal than bitter ice. The sun is my gift and enemy both at once.

When I walk to the open window I feel the moist, cool, damp spring air and now I can breathe. I feel that all is well internally and with the emerging turned soil. Why is this time of year more torturous than others? The inevitable sunshine and sweat that plagues our sleep, the butterfly kisses on my face or the swelling of joints after a long days work in the dirt and the delight of a fruitful day of harvesting our gardens bounties?

I long for the turn of winter to spring and then summer with trowel and shovel in hand under early morning shade then hide inside during sun's peak hours from its perilous rays which make wolves come to feast on my body. I can sense the time upon me with great expectations mixed with excitement and wonder. That which I cannot explain nor do words form in my mouth. I can only write at this late hour my deepest fears and aspirations both at once as if fallen into a vortex of unknowns. My head swims in the thoughts. I know when I awake in the morning sun I will find the greenest of leaves and grass growing so fast one can hear its moans. The soil is rich with worms and hopes of growth. I can feel the dirt under my nails not yet fully washed away after weeding earlier in the day. Knees burning from kneeling and knuckles wrinkled with pain and stiffness are signs that bring joy and concern at once with great anticipation for many unknowns.
The garden heals my soul and challenges my body yet it is my greatest joy. I long for it like a remote lover.

Tonight I rest on my laurels for another day. One filled with certainty and vagueness alike for tomorrow is another day bright with opportunity and hope.