I slowly wake in winter’s cave,
body stiff and sore.
In gray skies
trees bulge with sap,
their flowers opening,
the earth of another year
pressing out into the visible.

I drift back to sleep,
doze in the soft dark
as rivers fall
with the joy of ice.
A deep blanket
pulled back by the sun
and the green land breathes.

Song birds are out
along the swollen rivers,
creatures pad through snowmelt.
Time to rise
and join the flush of spring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7 Responses

  1. The Easter story is like a sandwich. First is the slice of bread that represents the ancient story no one can remember. The top slice represents the religious belief stories insisted upon at present. But the filling between, represents the love and passion of father God made One with mother Earth embraced in this beautiful poem, Don. Thank you.

  2. Don, it is always wonderful to read your poetry….it is calming and beautiful…. And, thank you for your generosity.

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