Loudly, I hear them above the rest.
Through the windows of slender sand, which rests in another form, songs of primavera bounce around my head.
I never knew their range or talents of projection; so small and fragile are not the melodies of the small and fragile.

This moment of recognition moves me to adjust that which separates her song and I; to hear more clearly that which I forgot,
truth and beauty, peace and presence.
I feel the thaw of spring which melts so sweetly into the air, sagging with weight as it tenderly brushes the backside of my neck.

These things in successsion cause more than hesitation, they cause more than saintly admiration. My eyes become fixed upon something in the middle distance to avoid and restrict additional visual stimuli; to allow this focused moment a place to stay.
to sit in appreciation of the fresh-chilled air and music of our returning spring that sings in natural melodies for we.