"I hope you find peace for your head and heart."
She said as Winter turned warm and Spring's pages folded with ease and softness
In the early Sun's light,
It's Sunday in Los Angeles.
There are lines forever at cafes.
Empty clear streets begin to run, not yet at capacity full, with your fill of designer cars..
Spring training is done as the Dodgers march to opening day, although out of town they will be that first glorious week.
The stadium at the Chavez Ravine, all clipped and clean, eagerly awaits our boys in blue.
Pass the smokey trails of hot coffee cups on patios of beans one spies a Giants fan and scoffs knowing that Orange is never the new Black.
We are indeed born again with baseball as all is new and dreams of famed, city lights are possible within one's grasp.
Though the masses are cell phone enslaved a brave reader of newspaper can be seen among uncivilized crowds of brunch hungry babies.
The news may seem grim and shocking and at times too much for one to bear.
The nature of spring commands our attention and belief that once again renewed hope is here.
At heart She is Mexican, forever life sustaining and protective.
She is Nana Mary; embodied in every Angelino..
Every drew drop sunrise.
Every pitch perfectly thrown.
She is the reclaimed Ravine, beaches and surf all skated clean.
She's Baseball's spring.