Springtime's Promise

Cool showers gather on the side yard graced by tiny weeds and Swallowtails. March brings hope to dormant soil in an open field. Seeds now comforted settle in to begin their germination. This old, old story is retold, as birds repeat the joy of knowing it -- they, believers of the rite and ritual here. Chattering Creek still runs beyond the home-fence. "And Along We Go" reply the gliding fish. Their white skins aglow with sunlit sequin-scales arise from fading shadows, their bodies move in rhythm of the goal ahead. "We're On Our Way," they skim the water's rock. Farther out, browned hills lie in hope-- as well the dark soil primed for planting, a season of promise soon to be fulfilled. The evening sky sighs, then yields to greening mists--the wind dies down. among the shadows fish scales, bubbles and fish not so easily fooled (haibun)