I always think that whatever season is current is my favorite season. Spring is special, though, because it is the season of JOY. I don't mean simple happiness, but that rare flash of radiant emotion that makes one want to sing, shout and dance, kick up one's heels like the gamboling lambs and calves on the green hills.
This following poem I pull from my files every spring, and I have posted it once - last April, I think. I was in that that rare joyous state when I wrote it several years ago.
SPRING ISHave a happy springtime in whatever manner you celebrate it!
Spring is not allegory. It is weighed
in density of sound from drunken bees,
intensity of sky, contrast of shade
and glinting leaf, the whisper brush of breeze
against my sleeveless skin; and it is seen
in swooping jay’s blue stitchery that sews
pure cherry blossom white to tender green.
Spring is the sun-baked boards beneath bare toes,
strawberries tart on tongue, the first warm night
that lilac scent, as thick as honey pours
through opened windows, moths around the light
and filmy dust of pollen on the floors.
Don’t try to find a meaning or define,
For spring is real
and here
and now
and mine!
3 comments:
What a joy it is to come over to your blog & see blossom and primulas of all colours! Also to be reminded that Spring has started.
Over here it is very cold and wet & windy & although Easter is early, it is one of the coldest on record!
Oh, the flowers are beautiful and full of promise and hope! This has really lifted my spirits today, tahnk you! Spring is my favourite time of year too- watching the lambs being born is an unforgetable
experience- wonderful!
The flowers are just beautiful. Thanks also for sharing the poem.
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