spring is here
photography by man of aran
seasonal
I can either move:
move on
move forward
move past
move out
move beyond
or I can stay:
stay on
stay back
stay with
stay in
stay present
plant new grass or
let it grow beneath my feet
What I love in this piece is how quietly it captures that moment when life asks you to choose a direction, even if you’re not ready. The repetition of “move” and “stay” feels like someone talking to themselves, trying to hear what their own heart wants. There’s a softness in the way the options unfold, as if the speaker is giving themselves permission rather than instructions. Nothing is rushed; the poem breathes. And then the shift to grass at the end grounds everything suddenly the choice isn’t abstract anymore, it’s something you can feel under your feet. “Plant new grass or let the grass grow” sounds like a small truth we all forget: sometimes growth happens even when we stand still. The poem holds that tension gently, without judgment. It feels like a quiet February moment when you realise spring is coming whether you move or not. And that makes the whole piece feel tender, honest, and very human.
Love that first photograph!