Bringing a message of hope — Once there was a time, not very long ago when Spring arrived with countless voices ardent and sweet, glorious as trumpets, fervent as prayers, full of passion and purpose when feathered singers young and old awakened the world with vivid cacophony filling our hearts with joy, unalloyed by fear, or the…

Hidden in plain sight — I can hear you spilling a bright melody from a naked branch high above, as yet unclothed by Spring; but I cannot see you, feathered sprite, though I strain and stare through eyes grown red with unshed tears. What magic do you conjure, What cloak of invisibility do you wear as…

Flitting through a poet’s mind. Writing prompt — On the road to Spring — Spring is a liminal dream flitting through a poet’s mind. The melting ice, the warming earth . . . Persephone released at last from Hades’ arms. Eagerly expected the tender green returns encouraged by rain, freshened by zephyrs and everywhere it seems benevolent gods rejoice. Yet sometimes Spring can brutalize with…

Tender, green, and new I hang, needing only sun and rain.

The first hard frost is not a pretty sight for anything left naked out of doors.

The willows are ready though spring is weeks away. Their slender branches scrape the ground,  seeking transformation.

“No man ever steps into the same river… —

What wakes me in the middle of my dreams as the still hours of darkness seem to swell

Dazzled by the view —

Watch it reach for the light —

As a soaring bird does —

Feeling simultaneously ancient and young —

The world atop a hill — I climbed a hill the other day the grass was pale the rocks were grey and no one had a word to say unless you count the crow who sat upon a withered branch and cursed at me whom happenstance had brought beneath his haughty gaze and no one could escape his glare…

From behind a pane of glass —

Tender and complete —