The magnolia you planted is playing in petals, a princess of pink at the party of spring. She wants you to see her there, dancing, young, many-limbed, a goddess, her outspread medley of hands accompanying your efflorescing garden, accompanying the frame and drape of your mothering home. Magnolia Soulangeana—seen soul of the angel of April. She casts down some blossoms in a pout of passings. She gladdens when crystals gather, little sisters to attend to her fresh recollections...

In the press of my darkness roots were drinking. Rings within me were echoing months of moons. Time trembled along my green successions. And my kindly progenitor, bound, like me, to turns of earth, to torrents of sun—I beheld her postures of help in a hush of thanks.

reassuring
spring
Japanese maple

Bio: Bill Gottlieb