Just to see green again and tender leaves
opening beneath a cloud-billowed sky
is enough to let you breathe again,
to sigh contented sighs of relief and joy.
In the reeds by the creek at the base of the hill
red-winged blackbirds call and the grass
sprouts wild forget-me-knots and dandelions.
The world is alive again. And so are we.
So are we, my love. So are we.