A Space of Time My Own
Tiny new, soft green leaves,
Yet full of baby wrinkles
And winter sleep,
Uncurl and stretch,
Clinging to mother branches,
Basking in the unaccustomed
Long-awaited,
Sun-filled warmth.
Bird conversations
Fill the soft-stirred air.
Returning wanderers
Greet one another.
”Hello again! How was
Venezuela this year?
Who has the nest
In the arbor vitae now?”
I breathe the sweet April
Smell of hyacinths
And white and purple lilacs.
The stone steps are warm.
I lean into a corner,
Sun seeping into my body
Like heated syrup
Soaking into pancakes.
A space of time my own -
For just this moment
I belong to sun and earth
And birds and sky.
Eyes closed, I feel
And hear and smell
God’s world around me –
And know that it’s enough.
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