In Early Spring
Shoots a shade of green
only seen
with the eagerness of April
emerge from moistened soil.
It's raining,
it's pouring,
the skies blessing nature in all it's glory.
Drops collect
in dips and swales and ponds,
where butterflies will sip,
birds bathe
and frogs contentedly sing along.
April grass is greening,
damp hens are preening.
The dappled brown thrasher announces
it's return
with a chorus of borrowed bird calls;
contrasted by the mourning dove's somber song.
The lion of winter forgotten.
Old Man Winter's grasp slipping
away
from early mornings.
Mother Nature's resilience visceral
all around us.
Buds swell
and
break,
bees feed,
apricots promise this seasons fruit
in a snow shower of
fragrant petals.
Alight and alive,
those short, dark days are gone.
Brooke Knisley
