So many seasons of spring
have I walked this earth:
to see the sun rise in its rose and blue
striations; to hear the morning chatter
as chickadee and finch wake; to witness
green leaves rise from soil with the promise of
rose tulip, purple iris, or yellow crocus.
Like an infant who wakes to see Mother’s
face anew in this morning, I feel joy
in anticipation, expectance of renewal,
amazement in life’s becoming.
“What a strange thing!
Kobayashi Issa, Poems
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.”
“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”…
Frances Hodgson Burnett
“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”
“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.”
Rainer Maria Rilke