Eager to pluck ripened
fruits of her labor,
she playfully bursts through
the garden gate, barefooted,
sun bleached hair tucked
under a floppy straw hat,
overalls disturbing a choir loft
of sleeping cicadas
as she sprints through
a kaleidoscope of emergent colors.
She pauses to pull up a pesky weed
terrorizing the tranquil blossoms.
Lifting her face toward the dazzling sun
she shouts praises
for the productive season
and flamboyantly campaigns for
reaching toward one's full potential,
ridding influences that torment,
to become a fuller
dimension of oneself.
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