In spring meadow a new song is—
Laid on an earthly table with birds
To feather nest, breaths remember,
Budding poems of leaves embrace,
All season is watered, warmly held
Dearly, bright and kept into drying
Bouquets.  Little creatures— flutter
In concords, humming with breeze
Caught fallows freed into sanctuary
Of bloom and spark, do clearly note
Abundance soon will break, arrived
To reasons that trail green into fires
Of earned, autumnal transcendence,
The flowers of peak, mature fruition.
In a spring meadow, celebrations all
Thrown— confetti let loose by Gods.

Bit by bit I’ll build you
until you forget you have no form

Dream by dream I’ll make you
as I pour your cold to warm

I’ll catch you in my blooming petals;
soft, the ground, my arms will be

Piece by piece I’ll fill you
yet, in truth, you’re filling me

Night and day I’ll ripen you
and grow you where you stand

Strong and proud I’ll mould you
while, in truth, it’s by your hand

Time will pass in moments
long in pause, and in-between…

yes…

My thoughts alone might write you
but, in truth, this need writes me