i hear
the birds fly
overhead,
their chirps, squeaks
and squawks
inviting me
outside
to join the
morning party.

When spring arrives, it touches nature’s heart, and awakens it into a new life
Trees are blossoming
Beautiful Lilly flowers are blooming
Fields are dressed in a green garment
Blue butterflies are flying
Bees are buzzing
Baby bunnies are playing
Birds are chirping in backyards
Water springs are bursting
Water waves are dancing
Nature is burning love

I wonder, if we as human being could bring out the best in us, and show the whole world our inner beauty by the touch of spring?

Hussein Dekmak

The bright sky
kisses my eyes,
I'm stunned
and I can't blink.
Clouds hanging overhead.
And the wind
blows my hair
also brings
the music of nature
like the chirping of a bird
perched on a branch.
Cool and calm.
The green leaves
make me not want to leave here,
the place where I always miss,
life in a quiet village
which many people
do not choose to stay.

I thought I heard a chirping bird
just about this morning’s sunrise.
Don’t think a mating call I heard—
sounded like a shriek of surprise.

I was surprised, too, and quite so.
Not from the bird’s chirp. Well, perhaps.
There were puddles instead of snow,
and snow-plowed mountains in collapse.

That chirping bird and I both saw
the cautious springing up of spring.
But while that bird sang to the thaw,
I don’t think I’m done worrying.

Seasons ’round here don’t change like that.
Although winter has one more freeze,
the bird on its Tree Ararat,
celebrates forty-five degrees.

This morning it was just one bird,
soon maybe crickets will chirp, too.
But I think spring is seen not heard,
and that chirp’s too good to be true.