Spring, in the year of….

close up of leaf

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be still
my heart flutters and
I wonder if I have forgotten my medication

my heart flutters
like a small butterfly wafting
against the cool morning breeze

there are no symptoms
of anything other than Spring
just Spring and all that goes with it

my heart flutters
Spring in the year of the plague

the sincerity of light

May sunrise

the sincerity of light
as the sun moves
from its morning to afternoon shade
its good natured
as nature most times can be
resting easy on the shoulders of old oaks
and old women
gently easing chilled worries and tender buds
from winters long ill-ease

its the goodfaith
of spring sunlight
as it sometimes hides behind gray clouds
or buildings, dark and shuttered,
the faith that its light will shine out
even if its in the face
of the April egg moon

And you can see in its earnestness
in the warmth of setting
blazes
scarlet and gold
gold enough to hold in your hand
to hold tightly in your hand
until the next mornings light

psalms

Faerie glade 2014

there’s little reason to do other than what we have always done
wake early, regard the morning sun
sing with the earliest bird
have a hot mug of tea and read verse to one another
resting easy in the arms of the old chair

the world exhales, relieved of all our hurry
and fuming about every minute
she recalls the time when sun and moon
were enough to light the path
and stars were there for the naming

so gather ye rosebuds and we will all go a-Maying
round and round the mulberry bush
resting well in the arms of the good green earth
and easing our hearts with the psalms of bees

Sonnet in Green and Reductions

tulips 1

Sonnet in Green

Winter’s gray sky belies the inner turning,
Held solemn and slow until that one
True day, where all that is verdant deploys

Into a suddenness of green, extinguishing
that which went before. Moving vernal sun
From iced sadness to tulip petal joys,

Hearts lift with longing eyes singing
Openly, body and soul, to beckon
April blue skies. What once destroy’d,

Winter’s now past forgotten season, rejoicing
In the forgiveness of all springs, a pardon
In the resurrection of now and forever.

In the eternal newness of all green things,
We are all immortal with the rebirth of Spring

***

Resurrection

Held solemn and slow
until that
One,
that which went before,
moving vernal sun openly,
body and soul,
to beckon
in the forgiveness of all springs,
a pardon-
We are all immortal with the rebirth of Spring.

***

Eternal Spring

True day,
where all that is verdant deploys
from iced sadness to tulip petal joys,
April blue skies.
What once destroy’d,
in the resurrection of now
and forever-
in the eternal newness
of all green things.

***
The first poem is a sonnet written many years ago. The second is a reduction using the second line of the sonnet ending with the last line. The last poem is a reduction using the third line ending with the penultimate line of the sonnet.

light house

my vision dims
first a film of misunderstood conversation
then it blinked out
like a light house flashing
warnings out to sea

I am wasting time
when there is so little left to waste
and there is a rustling in the pantry
where three blind mice live

and those oft told fairy tales
spring to life
but life does not hold many more springs
and it’s summer
and I am blinded by the light

warning me away from the rocks
and dangers on the shore

blackberry winter

berries blackberries blur close up

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Dull morning light bereft of warmth
fills in the corners
between spring
and blackberry winter.

The blooms, white against cold green leaves,
bramble along the rocky path,
armored with thorns
and protected by poison ivy
just finding its vigor.

Shivering anticipations of hot summer days
purpled with jeweled fruit
left by the chortling robins
and cobblers fresh from the oven.

Our Lady

hyacinths 2 2014

The scent rises from the damp cool earth,
sweet as my grandmothers perfume.

That smell that still permeates the drawer
of the old vanity
with its foxed mirror.
When I open it,
she appears,
Our Lady of the Hyacinths,
in her pale lilac cloak suffused with perfume
and held high by fat cheeked cherubs,
like the little chalkware angels
that perched on her vanity top
with chipped wings
and bashful eyes.

I gently hold the heady blossoms
as I rake away the last of autumn’s leaves.
Sweetness lingers in my hands,
hands that are shaped like my grandmothers,
square palms with short fingers,
blessed by Our Lady of the Hyacinths.

curiosity

spring pear 2012

my curiosity is piqued
in this greening season of new
this beginning season seeded in hay fields
and birds nests
where everyone raises their faces
to the warming sun
making plans and lists of things to do

but I feel only
endings
not cloaked in sad grays and cold blues
but with eyes wide to the possibilities
of this shedding dead wood
and indeliberate falling away
into the warm vernal sun

Happy Easter

Dogwoods on Easter 2

i thank You God for most this amazing day
By e e cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing day:
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginably You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)