Frosty morning, warming afternoon, spring
Promise in the air. I can sense it, Robins in
Woods, bathing in icy puddles, running few
Steps, head turning, listening to ground.
“Spring is coming!” Facing sun, they feel it,
Too. Find a suitable mate, winged dancing
Along ocean marshes, nests built in quiet
Pines, near old wooden boats.
Life cycles, ancient and steadfast, they
Return round again, bitter days give way
To ocean breezes warming face and hands.
For now cresting seas are cold, lapping on
Sandy shores. Deep within briny depths,
Life continues, multiplying in life-instilling
Currents, fish not knowing harsh sea gales,
Waves foam-streaked in storming fright.
From winter birds, I find encouragement,
Darting, chiding chickadees, seeds, nuts
Hidden in pinetree bark. Huddled in tall
Thickets, they fly to and fro, calling to
Each other, lurking in shadowy woods.
“Spring is coming!” they announce from
Fence posts, undaunted by morning skiff
Of snow, singing sweet praises to the sun.
Anticipating advent of spring, another Thera poem.
For more about Thera (pronounced Thee-rah’), see these links:
Thanks for reading.