Spring
Chris Cavan
the sacred surge
of long-awaited stirrings
silent subterranean tumult
the holy promise fulfilled again
the giddy rush of sweet blood rising
yearning, ever yearning, for the sun
pent up elation after twelve full moons
longing for release from long, dark shadows
winter’s white weight: the heavy, quiet shroud
thrown off in blessed dance of wild abandon
stands of maple, ash, and birch
their bare arms open wide
entice the joyous winged return
of shriek and chitter
warble and chirp
on still winter branches
an impossible scribble
black tangle
stark perfection
sketched on air
embracing the sky
divine links
from earth’s
dark depths
to space
from
Gaia
to
Uranus
roots
from
earth
join
sky
to
stars
