In the spring morning, a newness stirs, gentle breezes carry soft notes of awakening, a whisper, a promise, a renewal, a dance of creation, a Dadaist embrace of the odd.

Petals unfurl in blush, casting dreams, in the warmth of sun, a blanket of colors, every shade telling tales of joy, of sorrow, soaked in existence.

Let me chase the sparkle of dew on grass, a shimmering echo of the night before, a liquid diamond, a fleeting hold on time.

Between the thickets, a path blossoms, a pilgrimage to wonder, a journey of heart, lost in the song of the world awakening, a celebration, a surrender, a fragment of life, every breath a gift.

• Alice Toklas