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This is the week, in Sheffield, when the blossom is at its best.


As you drive past
the hanging blossom of the cherry tree,
you are moving too fast.

Their pale luminescence an unnoticed glory,
a promise, year by year, you fail to keep.

But one day soon you will stop,
get out of the car
and amble down the aisle of spring.

There you will feel
the tidal pull of all that growth,
the vernal current of possibility.

It will be time to call an end to speed
and the unspoken grimness of hurry.

What will the blossom say
as it falls kindly on your upturned face?

‘You are my witness,
your presence a sign that falling is never wasted.’

Look the strewn confetti of a richer life
is all around you, all you have to do
is trust its kindness to bring you home.

Then you will see; there is no other life for you,
hidden in someone else’s wake.

Only this marriage to everything you meet
on the roughened track covered in blossom.

Only to welcome yourself as a guest
at these unexpected nuptials of self compassion.

Only this spring, your own spring,
blossoming open before your astonished face.

Copyright Adrian G R Scott
From ‘Arriving in Magic’
Can be Purchased at adriangrscott.com