The Northern Spring

06-30-2022

It is in small moments,
amongst the weeds of those and these,
that blossoms of thistle
give nod to the fur caught in their snares.
No longer enwrapped by its heaping shell,
the gardener's rose unfurls.

Awake,
the land breathes,
the sky weeps,
the wind speaks against
these new-budding leaves.

From sleep to sleep the seasons change,
yet—today—here sat early of a gentle June
the air fills my wanting lungs
as I let out a calling song. I hear you!

The wares of the tree glance and groan
into the claws of my legs. They cause me to want
my wings to make like blossoms in the wind.

Gently, I leap.
Gracious, I breathe:

Welcome to your glistening spring.