I am amazed at how you can catch a frog with your bare hands. I am petrified by it. You carefully balance the frog between your thumb and the rest of your fingers, with your other hand supporting its legs
There's a contented smile on your face. You just saved the frog from a hole. You're proud when you show him to me. Like a little kid showing off her first art project.
There's something marvelous about the people who care. It's how the need to nurture spills out into the world. Like a bucket filled with water and the tap cannot be turned off. Sheets of water slowly fall out and spread around, making the earth fertile. Giving a chance for life.
I once bought four houseplants and couldn't keep them alive. I see your plants outside and know that you're doing this right. Petunias, Jasmine, Marigold, Hibiscus, Roses, Roses and Roses. All show their bright colors every day in your care.
It's not so common, the act of braiding limitless life, done so effortlessly by you, where one plant turns to two, two to four, four to eight and so on until we have a big garden.
Here we rest, on our belly, with growing life as our witness, reading poems. This is where all the frogs you've saved stay. Hey Bailey, listen closer. All the frogs around you (including me) are croaking in joy. It translates into saying:
'Thank you for healing us by simply existing.'
