applause

for sakura

Sakura don’t speak when they are full. When there are too many of them. Pink pressing into pink on repeat until the branches disappear into sweetness and eager eyes, upwards cast, swallow their gasps.

They strike a bargain for their freedom, held in the hush of canopy, trading silence for beauty, dreaming of wind or being butterflies.

Sakura don’t speak when they are full, but they feel something close to courage when they grow away from the crowns, emerging instead from elbows, knees or feet.

When they unbutton themselves and fall, they look up at the tree and watch the new leaves and clap.

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Side notes:

• Does anyone else use VSCO? I’ve made a small space for my ongoing egg fascination. If you’re into that too, come join, The Soft Centre Club

• After some thinking, I would like to post a short weekly note/prompt/thought to encourage more slow looking and noticing. This means an additional article a week. Is that too much? What do you think? Let me know!

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