I see you there,
My sweet warm spring rain,
Coming 'round that worn & weathered bend again,
My sweetness,
My Queen.

Glimpses of you,
Carried upon warm gusts,
Through the torrent of winter sleet,
Tempered by grace and kindness,
Making me see that sweet morning dew once again.

Making my head swim,
Sweat breaking from my brow,
Rivulets caused by the intensity of your love,
Matching any summer haze.

You carry forth a great message,
Of coming life in blooms,
Rather then heralding Fall's doom and impending gloom.

So sing to me my May Queen,
With your soft words of gentle wood,
The sounds of supreme love and understanding,
Calling forth in me everything good.

Seasons change
Just ask the jay
Whose plume is blue
As the sky
After a fierce rain
Inundates the land
Bringing with it winds
Whose currents lift the jay
To dance among scattered clouds
Waving a final goodbye
To the warmth of summer sun
Setting past falls forward
Into winters grasp
Whose chill shocks the jay
With visions of ice and snow and frost
A sign to migrate to warmer climbs
Where fall has fallen backward
And summer sun rises anew
Challenging the changing season
To remain sunny and blue

Live, right now,
You're awake,
And healing.
Everyday.
Live now!

The leaves change colour all the time,
All the time, all the time.
The leaves change, so live, now!

You're alive
And living,
Grab it,
Embrace it,
Relish all things.
Live now!

The leaves change colour all the time,
All the time, all the time.
The leaves change, so live, now!

Don't waste time,
Dwelling on the past,
When you weren't perfect;
They were wasted worries,
They added no life,
But subtracted,
From the promises of pure possibilities.
Live now!

The leaves change colour all the time,
All the time, all the time.
The leaves change, so live, now!

Live now!
And not in the future,
When you're a mother,
Lover, poet and peaceful.
Live now!

Alam kong umpisa na ng tag-init dyan.
O baka lingid sa kaalaman ko'y
sa susunod na linggo pa o kalaunan.
Ngunit kung paano ang tag-init dyan
o gaano kainit ay hindi ko alam.
Paano ang tag-init dyan sa inyo?
Gaano ka-init ang mainit dyan sa bahay mo?
Sana'y naaarawan ka ng sapat at tama,
sana'y palaging malusog ka at masaya.

Alam mo bang tag-ulan na rito ng Hunyo?
O maaaring para sayo ay patak pa lang,
o marahil mga mumunting tulo.
Ngunit kung gaano kaginaw
o paano ang tag-ulan ay hindi mo alam.
Gaano kaginaw, gaya ba ng taas ng baha?
Paano ang patak ng ulan, tulad ba ng luha?
Sana'y bagyuhin at tangayin ang mga mali,
sana'y mawala na ang alaalang gipit.

Alam kong tag-init na pag Hunyo sa inyo.
Ngunit alam mo ba talaga kung gaano ka-init
kung ikaw sana'y narito sa silid ko?
Alam mo ba ang tunay na tag-init,
gayong di mo pa nararanasan sa bisig ko?
Hindi mo malalaman kung gaano kainit ang mainit
hangga't ika'y wala sa tabi ko.
Ang tunay na tag-init ay nasa aking piling.

Alam mo nang tag-ulan na rito ng Hunyo.
Ngunit kung malalaman mo nga kung gaano kaginaw,
tulad siguro ng paghagkan sa bloke ng yelo.
Alam mo ba ang tunay na tag-ulan,
tila mga patak ng luha kung mawawala ako.
Malalaman mo kung gaano kaginaw ang maginaw
kung mawawala ako sa buhay mo.
Ang tunay na tag-ulan ay ang aking kawalan.

To witness the subtlety of change
in all things that breathe

To grow in this new delicate rain
and spring's easy breeze

To be the colour of water
when it's finally set free

Spring you called, how kind
I see you’ve settled your wandering mind
you brought a leaf for every tree
and flowers for every buzzing bee
sit a while we’ll have some tea
I made a cake so I hope you’ll stay
if not, can you visit another day

Spring you total ****
what goes with you
you promise much
teasing us with summer’s waiting arms
yet still you flirt with winter
and make us wait to sample all your green and airy charms
it just won’t wash, the rest of us have had about enough
I know you think it’s funny
now come on out and do your proper stuff

Good brown earth
cracks and folds and tips and tumbles
rolls and flips and slides and crumbles
moved in space by a tractors churning,
bitter specks of last year’s burning
buried deep in a seasons turning
where once the plough horse trod with grace
heavy feet at a slower pace
there lives a fertile planting space
of furrowed ridges, rips and rows
and the hop and hollow of taunting crows