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.