Hardwoods, lithe and long,
Push upward from frozen ground,
Their finest extremities shooting forth
Pulsing for the warmth
And the pale April sun.
Red season spreads in a blush
Across the mountains,
Perhaps slow to start,
Shy in its wanting, but similarly
Impossible to hide or contain.
What is this if not Nature’s show of lust
Borne of a long season of dormancy?
Spirits running heady and strong, reaching,
Filling each branch with potential for a
Spontaneous combustion of life and green.
Promise vibrates through every stem and tendril,
Sending out a frequency to everything that breathes:
NOW
Is the time to rush forth, connect, entwine,
Yielding singularity to become one.
As Spring’s flushed cheeks conjure that which fills us with life,
We would be wise to remember our part in Nature’s grand plan
And breathe deeply, revelling in the riotous energy of
A New Beginning.
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