Self Narrative

These first signs of Spring,
the buds, shoots, and blooms,
Boldly step forward, upward,
making their presence known.

There's a story they tell themselves,
(as perhaps we all do),
About who they are
and what makes them tick.

They have chosen their narrative,
a story where they are lucky,
And because of that outlook,
they see the opportunities.

Is that why they pop up first,
scouting out the world?
Is that why they burst forth,
with an air of confidence?

For these harbingers of Spring,
they have a can do attitude!
They say, "I'm going to find a way!"
and enact small moments of heroism.

They approach the world with curiosity,
a desire to meet and greet,
An expectation that adventure awaits,
and that they will encounter friendly faces.

They see beauty and humor, joy and peace,
they radiate and draw us in.
They soak in the sunshine,
dance in the rain.

They hunker down together when the cold nights come,
assured that this condition is temporary.
They open up and transform with warmth,
and their vulnerability is rewarded.

I stop and notice them,
perhaps because we are like-minded.
I like to think, like them,
that I am lucky.

I like to think that good things come my way,
that my life is full and fulfilling.
I seek and find opportunities,
where once I might have walked right by.

The self narrative we choose,
guides our thoughts and actions.
Are we heroes, helpers, healers,
or are we victims?

What if we shaped our narratives,
after the late winter bloomers,
And chose to believe we are lucky,
and that this world, and the people in it,
Are adventures waiting to happen,
connections waiting to be made?

What if we chose a self narrative,
where we were the bold, the brave?
What if we chose a self narrative,
where we were heroes of our own stories?
What if we exuded main character energy,
and assumed we were meant to be right here, right now?

Photos: Flemington, NJ. Captured on walks, Week of 3.10.25 by LA


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