What spring does to the trees

by: Mia Dey

There is a layer of you that has never been touched by struggle, by doubt, by the weight of becoming. It was there before the first story you told about yourself, and it will be there after the last one dissolves. This is what the painting reaches for, the quiet underneath the drama of transformation. The figure does not fight. She does not arrive. She simply allows, and in allowing, she becomes what she always is. Spring does not instruct the trees. It just arrives. And the trees, without effort, without understanding, break open into bloom.