Saturday, March 26, 2011

heart & head argue

Spring Equinox ’11

the last full day of Winter here in the South
is warm enough for shorts and bright enough
for the Sun to show us clearly all that’s outside,

leaf and flower appear here and there

like a magician’s trick manifests just when you aren’t looking,

the blueberry bushes, which took half the winter
to lose the last of last year’s leaves,
they who impressed me with the bareness of their branches
just a bit ago,

now I can’t see through them any more
their leaves so hungry
they’ve demanded to be served the Sun,

birds are passionate in their intensity
for the time is now to find a partner and make children,

high up some of the oak trees drape themselves in gold
as each seeks to be by how well it can make more of itself,

a full Moon breaks the horizon,
but it’s supersize can’t break through
the eastern trees and increasing cloudiness,
overnight the Moon does better at ruling the sky,
an ivory eye that tells us fully of the Sun it still sees,

clouds visit most of the Equinox, the air cool, lightly breezy,

the garden, college basketball on TV, school chores,
and errands in the car fill most of the day,

the grass seed I’ve planted begins to poke up from the straw,
two blossoms on the cherry tree become a hundred,

dogwoods start to blossom, their leaves like squirrels’ ears,

I look for serviceberry and find none, yet,
redbuds purple jewel their branches,
my kiwi vines start to release their buds
like a laugh that has to bubble free,

the air so warm
that thoughts of tomatoes in the garden dance in my head,
and it’s hard to remember that casual shifts of the winds
can invite Winter back for a visit,
fruit trees take the risk and bet the farm, and might lose it,

there’s an ancient wisdom in the ginkgo,
so Eastern and deep in its roots,
and I listen to its counsel also,
for its buds are still cautious,

my heart is with the hope in the flowers,
my head is with the wisdom of the branch,
daring to still be bare.

by Henry Walker
March, ‘ll

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