Thursday, February 27, 2014

aching toward spring



spring bugles, I nap

this winter cold has come and stayed awhile,
so that it’s cost more to heat the house
and fewer plants outside have tempted probability
by an early budding out toward bloom,



the trees are still bare



and hesitant daffodils bide their time
where they fear the cold



and only release their joy where it’s the safest,





the crocus around the house do not hesitate
and on a warm day blossom after blossom
quietly shouts that spring will come,





spring peppers call loudly as if all were waiting in unison
until a switch was thrown  by future tadpoles who want to be,
birds and squirrels seem to have the same switch turned-on,


when liquid dared to come north from the Gulf in clouds,
it recently covered the ground in white





and finished as an icy sheen upon everything,
I worked to photograph cherry and dogwood branches





as the clarity of ice-encased buds ached to remember last year’s hope
for a tomorrow that will bear a sweet future,

the garden is tilled 
and hard at work incorporating fall’s leaves 
in the plans for summer,


inside my first tomatoes have a month start in plans for summer
and exhibit their first true leaves,

















bear and bud and frog have slept so they’re ready to wake
whereas we humans have worked through the winter
and fought entropy with lights and heated rooms,
and lists of chores that must be done,
now, as the natural world wakes up,
we are tired and need to retreat
just as spring bugles that it’s time to charge,
this year, again, I feel the disjoint
between nature’s energy and my need for a nap.













by Henry H. Walker
February 25, ’14

3 comments:

Bill said...

Love it Henry, spring looks the same here right now, and we have ice and snow in the forecast for this weekend too.

Jen Feldman said...

Thank you, Henry! I had this same thought this morning, though we are completely snow-covered still with no end in sight (only 30s in the forecast, though at least that's warmer than recently). There is that heavy wetness in the air this morning, though, whispering of melting, and my first emotion was excitement, quickly followed by dread at all the hauling, raking and piling that will soon follow ... I am sure looking forward to the daffodils, though! Hugs from Maine and thank you for a lovely poem.

Suzanne said...

Snow and Ice may be gone in Georgia but the cold lingers on....My early daffodils are blooming, a few trees budding have been burned by frost...It was 70 on Sunday and 31 this morning...Sweet Spring, don't wait too long but bust through the door and warm all life up!