Posts Tagged ‘Spring’

I cherish this moment:

when the wind rolls in

with floral perfume,

when the grass bends-

as if in genuflection- and ripples,

when the birds warble

and their chirps burst like bubbles

and their piccolo-bones sound

their ascent,

when the children’s laughs echo

and fill emptiness where the birds and wind cannot,

when the trees seem to be carved rocks,

and their buds burst into bloom like fireworks,

when the flowers split into color and scatter

adding new shades with the buds of the trees.

This moment is

exquisitely orchestrated.

Wrung from my Eyes- tears-

shed with Love’s decay.

Spring blew forth a Spark,

which roared to Flame one day.

 

Sparks now dance in my Eyes,

the Flame within my chest-

I breathe, it rises,

and will until I- Rest.

The birds rise first- Robin,

Dove- wake me each Morn.

They whistle- I find,

I am not forlorn.

I had forgotten the feeling spring instilled in me-

a giddiness, the desire to move.

The desire to clean the dust off the bike no one rode,

and to fill the tires until their dark cheeks could burst,

and set out with the gravel crunching underneath,

the trees and fields passing as gray and yellow blurs.

 

I had also forgotten the scent of spring-

crisp earthiness spiraling up from the ground.

The sun pulls back the curtain of snow,

and the scent rises in spirals, the sun

helping it on its way.

This is what instilled in me

that sense of adventure, that desire

to move forward.

Yellow fingers sweep the clouds away,

extend to brush my skin-

I feel the gentle, warm caress.

The world illuminates:

houses, fields, trees, lakes brightened.

Snow dissipates, ice dwindles in drips,

both glint all the same.

Here is the change

as everything wakes from cold slumber

and will stir into flower and fervor.

The Sun climbs, each day,

over some unseen Hill.

Ascent warms the Land- then-

Descent brings a chill.

Gulls are Harbingers-

as much as Robins, yet,

not appreciated as part

of Spring’s welcoming Quartet.

One day, I went out,

and the World Struck my Eye-

the Hills- the Grass- pleaded-

and I could only comply

 

by venturing forth

into the Warm air-

this solace, like Eternity,

was not simple- but- Fair.

This will thrill

like the sun, anxiety

of spring undoing

the old curse

of cold overstayed.

And the green pushes up,

unfurls like a map of stars,

and ribbed transparent stalactites

fall to shatter into

the earth. A new

song will flit over the hills.

It’s funny how childlike and innocent my perception of the world, or at least the Natural world, becomes at the beginning of each season.

At the start of winter this year the snow was falling so lightly I thought it was almost dreamlike. Then winter got old. People began to grow tired of the now, especially as the weather turned foul. I tried to maintain a positive outlook, trying to see the beauty in storms and the whiteness of everything. But the sad thing about winter, when you get older, is that the season kind of loses it’s magic. You find you’d rather stay inside. I tried going out into the snow once. I only ended up being outside for fifteen minutes. Maybe the magic is also gone because fifteen minutes can feel like forever when you’re a kid.

Now winter grows into spring, and I find myself smiling as I step into a puddle by accident. I feel happy being able to see green plants now- tree branches no longer covered by snow. But I’m wondering how long this fascination will last. As a writer, observation of the surrounding world is important, but there’s this nagging sense that what I observe will get tiresome eventually.

I guess that the best option is to try and keep an open mind. To observe the changes that happen, and try to find the beauty in the heat waves and thunderstorms to come.

Wish me luck, and stay tuned!