The Wondrous Spectacle
In late March one starts thinking
of spring with those cherry blossoms
that a few days ago were small
buds, but frost kept them from
blooming and show their splendor;
would a fierce wind disperse them?
In a remote forest, there are firs
that cast shadows over paths;
from far one hears a horse
snorting as his hooves clip-clop,
wanting to stop and refresh
by the tiny pound swarming
with docks and they are startled
by his neighing and swim away.
I look up to measure the distance
between me and the firs' branches,
and waving they let sun rays gleam;
a hummingbird lands a few feet
from me as he warbles cheerfully.
I decide to take an afternoon nap
and lay on a bed made of fresh leaves,
above sunlight filters through the gaps
between the long branches tinted
with the orange pollen of hibiscus;
I sneeze twice frightening a squirrel
that is chewing on a bunch of walnuts
that someone has dropped intentionally.
Dusk comes and I am still napping heavily,
someone coming from the opposite path
warns me of snakes crawling at this hour,
" You don't want to get bitten by one of them! "
I get up still day-dreaming and thank him;
and following the same path, I took before,
I head home admiring the wondrous spectacle.
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