March

First buds emerge in velvet cocoons As dank, dark mornings transform Into frost clad, bright, clean-aired dawns. Grass laden heavy with dew, Nectar of nature to sustain awakening creatures. From deepest winter slumbers, To drink deep the anticipation held in each drop. Static in the air, in our hair, as crunched grasses Make way for warming days, milky moons, And pearlescent sun shards melting The cold of winter soil. Grass, long since recoiled after long summer Parching, burnt and bruised, Now tender and sweet, shoots pushing Up through the loamy layers of frost bitten ground. The scents of spring, almost imperceptible Yet nonetheless I feel them set my belly to flight The excitement for some unknown event, As though a celebratory feast, Honoured to be invited to. Tingling in extremities, no longer from cold But now in joy, in pleasure, In the fruitfulness we know to come to pass, When spring finally announces her arrival Once more.