Another Spring Morning
It begins again with the crow,
bearer of hope’s green branch,
her domestic constructions
high above the flood levels
of the receding winter,
her industrious caws soon joined
by the plaited harmonies
of the small-bird chorus
of the promised spring.
spontaneously across the soil,
their wintered bulbs
blowing stored fertility
in bursts of sunshine colour.
The world is getting ready
to replace herself.
Only the trees still flaunt
their naked bones, reminding
what’s to come.
I could easily be swept away by it all,
forget each frenzied new beginning
means another year passed away,
an accumulation of time
or brushed off like snow blossom
from the dark shadows of my hair.
The inexorable marching forward,
biological imperative we collude with readily,
to our own self-induced chemical dance –
the lure of another diamond dawn.