only occurs in Spring

I know it is the angle of the Earth

The tilts of her chin as if she smiles

To her favored star

I know that the soils lie in cold wait

For the intensity of beams to spur

Tiny life onto greatness

I know…

Yet there is mystery and fantasy

The orb in a brighter blue gown

And how the moon plays a trick

Upon air and sea to mesmerize into forgetting

A return to used-to-be’s that

Never were; I know.

All the pale blue wonder

Sun-splashed hills turning green

The songs of gurgling streams

Enjoying a bounty of cold clear melt

And underground swelled by chill and freeze

Releases like a pent-up lover

Last seasons seeds need no more than

A few tender days, yes, I know

It is the land and air, and waters

And yet, I also cannot deny,

That I know

It is a part of me, a seed of hope, a rivulet

rising to a rush, the hunter’s lust in a rising trout,

a pile of noisy crisp leaves

gathered by the winds, and tapping, tapping

There is part of me yet-

That only occurs in Spring.