Four baby robins were born,
their turquoise eggs bursting open
to reveal yellow beaks and big eyes
not yet open and the fuzziest down
barely covering their little pink bodies.
On the hillside, little ferns poked out
to begin unfurling their curled-up leaves.
and at the woods’ edge, dogwood danced
in the spring sky, breathing the fragrance
of the lilac, just opening her petals.
Bright dandelions waltzed with violets.
Wild forget-me-nots came to take in the view.
The ancient trees put forth their leaves,
and popcorn ball globes of white blossoms
partied on the lawn at the base of the hill.
This is what sustains me through the winter,
the dream of this. Yet even my best dreams pale
now that spring is finally here, alive
with new life, feeding my soul, singing
the blessing of wondrous this day.
