Spring is
time to renew
old vows made in quiet,
allow rush of greening to
swell
freely,
upward,
groaning, silent
as crocus blades thrusting
into unknown tomorrows-Life,
Changes.
To life
and it's endless
changes I want to say:
you're
as welcome as the flowers
of May
as my
grandma oft said.
I want that ease, trusting
presence, desired as desperate
as breath
and love;
as destructive
when lost. Thankfully and
despite me, spring's greening arrives
immutable as morn.
Jill MacCormack
