The Awakening

Waking from a deep sleep

the forest yawns and stretches out

stiff limbs

A warm light caresses

the lifeless branches

coaxing out curious puffs

of fuzzy magic

Tiny creatures

poke their heads

from the dark earth.

Such shy, fragile things

Rain falls

and falls

seeming endless

It must reach deep

to stir those

who continue to sleep

Ice transforms to a more fluid state

allowing the fish to escape

their cramped indoor existence

Each flower celebrates

its release

from bulb form

with a glow

whose light, colour and presence,

outshines its real life size

ten-fold!

Silly characters pop out of the lawn;

a happy, unplanned surprise.

I suppose I must thank the squirrels

for this one kind act

among the multitude of mischievous

re-plantings they perform in the fall

Daffodils emit an otherworldly glow;

They seem to siphon their colour

directly from the sun

becoming landlocked beacons of light

for us,

winter weary travellers

With an uncanny ability

to sense Spring air

they have yet to breathe

Houseplants,

rescued from last year's frost,

burst into joyous bloom

Outside,

timid colours

deepen

Fragrance

dances on the

ever-warming breeze

sneaking in through

windows that now remain

a crack open

Early bloomers

know their time

will soon be over,

buds give way to seed

Nature reminds us every day

in colour, shape and form -

It's always about Transformation!

Icy Tears

Winter would stay forever if it could.

It's worked hard to establish itself,

building layers upon layers of ice and snow,

determined to become a permanent part of our landscape.

It's understandable then,
to see the long, sharp, icy tears of sadness

when warm winds blow in
and it must relinquish its grip.

Rings of memory,

frozen in time,

wait anxiously to be released

to rejoin the story of the seasons.

Stripped of Winter's decorations,

the forests are left dark and empty,

save for the icicles
that twinkle like haunted chandeliers,
a memory of happier times.

The ground swells with unfamiliar waters;

milky-grey and ice-cold,
not ready yet for life to begin.

Ice touches gold.

Winter and Autumn, old friends,
reunite for a brief moment.

Together they transform bare fields
into treasure-chests brimming with jewels.

In the same way Winter arrived,
it leaves us breathless, sparkling
with a beauty we won't forget.

And then, with one swoop of a wand

the seasons change. 

Softly Into Spring

Spring calls softly from the darkness

She bathes the land in light

To lure us from our slumber

At the end of Winter's night

It's in the whisper of the wind

Her perfume scents the air

Colours appear overnight

Full of dash and dare

Hot and cold play hide and seek

In league with sun and shade

The flowers carry on as planned

Their costumes have been made

Leaves unfurl and petals twirl

Birds trill their serenade

No one can resist the lure

Of a Spring parade

What started as a whisper

Soon becomes a roar

The flowers dance, the music plays

A Spring song I adore.

Oh Spring, Where Art Thou?

It appears Spring has been hijacked by Winter,

and is refusing to leave.

Fresh snow continues to fall

discouraging the tulips that have optimistically

poked their heads out of the cold, hard ground.

The forest remains bare-branched and empty.

The only things out to greet me on my walks

are last year's weathered flowers

And the joyous sound of birdsong welcoming

a Spring that has yet to arrive.

The sun assures us it is doing it's best

to move things along,

Casting the most lovely glow on anything

brave or hardy enough to make it through the winter.

And so I admire what fall has left behind;

A gift given once but appreciated twice.

"Adopt the pace of nature, her secret is patience."

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Yes, patience...

And so I will continue to admire

the longer days and (slightly) warmer temperatures.

While I wait for Spring to truly arrive.

Red

The colour you can't forget.

It sparks a fire in your eyes

that travels to your heart

and all of a sudden you want to dance.

Wonderful Weeds!

Common Knapweed...

The name hardly does it justice.

Centaurea, it's proper name,

suits it much better.

It sounds like a secret

and hints at a history of magic and mystery.

This weed casts a spell on me

every spring.

Its long ghostly fingers

and shimmering colours

catch my eye

and draw me in

closer

and closer.