Spring

The frozen people wake from their frozen slumber, the winter sleep

Their eyes still filled with fading embers of days gone by

The clean breath of trees and stars and sea and sky, a summer now long past

The gentle, teasing pinch of autumn, a smile of orange, gold and red, a million shades of brown

The chocolate and peppermint days of snow, of the delicate icy glass, the frozen crystal that crept up the windowpanes, formed a royal carpet beneath my feet

Eyes open to see a gentler kind of day, a half-forgotten melody of promise of life

And I stand on a hill in the new grass, a rainbow of green, the jade of the ground, the deep viridian of the shadows beneath the trees

The gold crocuses, the violets, the first clover press close around my feet

The indigo irises, the satin-petaled lilies, whose soft scent fill the air like the notes of a hymn, stand next to me, reaching up to the sun with loving hands

The wild grasses start new growth, the wildflowers, infinite names and colors, snow-white daisies in my hair

I spin around, the white-gold glitter of sunlight falls down on me like rain

The softest breeze brushes, caresses my arms, the slightest touch of love

The first bird sings, a sunburst of purest joy that words have not the means to translate, to describe

The water lilies dot the still ponds like fallen stars, resting silently in a new heaven of quiet water, until -plop!- the young frog, fresh from tadpole infancy, leaps in, disturbing the spell

A kitten's soft fur, new-opened eyes, the fleece of the innocent lamb, the blue robin's egg new-hatched all echo the song of the wind, the sky, the trees

An eagle's eye reflects the sun, the birds return, a journey home from fading warmth to rising life

A rabbit hops, once, twice; a doe, her fawn, blurs of joyful leaping motion across the flowery meadow, breaking from the safety of the shadow of the leaves, the sun-dappled ground

A cloud across the sun, a bit of downy cotton, or a dandelion wish, casts its gentle darkness on the new-awakening earth

The moon rises, perches high in a turquoise-blue sea, horizon lined with most delicate orange-gold

The window open to catch the nightly breeze that sweeps along the cricket's merry fiddling, the early cicada's trilling, rattling song, echoing, fading away to accompany the peeping of the tree-frogs

A gentle dream, a swift sleep, arise to watch the sunrise o'er the sea

The dawn-rose, the cotton-candy clouds float away, the sky all white and blue and buttercup gold

A yellow kite soars in the first wind, a bright banner heralding a new day