Where winter ends and spring begins
white plum willow green
yellow broom
break the monotony
of brown and grey,
magnolias open like hands
asking nothing, offering all …
Beak wing and claw gather
twig cloth limb and stick
whatever warms
the magpie nestling.
In the waking hills
feral cats hunt and fatten.
A white haze of mountain sky
falls to earth
the foggy breath of an imperial dragon –
There is meaning
in every motion or change
the momentary violets pushing into light
are questions
the old trap of time letting go –
Is the coming of joy and more pain
worth the space I take?
Is the choice free…
I don’t know, but hold as seasons
spin ’round
this eternal spring
waking a world to all that is possible
