Amidst the words death, funeral, autopsy
I am searching for beauty. February is melting into March and I am seeking beauty. Dirty white snowbanks conceal the green grass and flower blooms that spring will soon offer. My hands ache to be covered in soil, which with the addition of seeds, water and sunshine will burst forth with tiny green seedlings which in time will grow small buds that will unfold into delicate and colorful flowers which delight the eye and perfume the air.
Not incredibly different from bringing a child into this world. Every child begins like a seed. With time and nourishment it grows and thrives until at last he or she bursts forth into this world and brings color to our lives. Some of these children grow and bloom and change. We will see them bloom again and again, each time more beautiful than the time before. Some will remain forever budded, only blooming in our imaginations.
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