Emergent leaves of yellow and green slowly unfurl. Upwards they reach, like the needy hands of a child. They whisper, never cry, for they only have the voice that the wind compassionately lends them. Nature, a generous mother, showers down upon her children the necessities of life, light and water.
Priscilla lives in Canada where spring arrives late and does not stay for long.
Two dozen keys on a ring. Twenty four times he’s a trusted man.
“Dad, why do you have so many keys?” his young daughter asks.
“Because I am an important person,” he says with a smile and a chuckle.
The child imagines the abundant ring of keys in her future.
Priscilla is a retail manager by day and an artist by night. She just recently stumbled upon this writing technique, fell in love, and decided to try it for the first time.