In the middle of February
when winter has long since erased
all but the faintest memory of green
from your mind, it’s hard to imagine
that a day like this could have ever
been real, or could ever come again,
At best, it seems a faded dream,
a dim hope, this roadside, knee deep
in wildflowers and grasses, the delicate
and multilayered scents drifting
on warm air that’s filled with the
songs of tree-hidden birds,
and the trees themselves,
rich with their greens, their leaves
dancing in the fragrant breeze.
A day like this, which makes all the rest
of them worth enduring, is a treasure,
a wish granted. It calls for the opening
of our hearts and our senses,
for the breathing of it into our souls.
May we spread our arms to welcome it,
to gather the sunshine it pours down
our faces and bare arms, to drink in
its infinite, flowing aliveness,
our spirits floating in its endless Yes.