Spring Time
The trouble with Winter
Is equivalence.
Each day is equal to every other.
The heavy clouds are all the same.
The rain is equal signs tipped
And slanting downward,
Falling this hour the same as the last.
Dull, boring sameness...
But, Oh!, Spring!
Each second now bears change with it.
There are so many things to watch.
Every plant has its zipping timeline
Rushing at break-neck speed.
From the first cracked, damp earth
That is rent apart by the escaping daffodil
To the triumphant bloom
To the hard green seedpod forming,
There is always something new.
The rhodi buds have been there all winter
But now they swell
With life, with red and pink,
Zinging along like a kid on a skateboard.
The clouds puff and then disappear,
Exercising your neck and eyes to follow them.
The thick, dappled shade beneath
The redwoods
Has pinpoints of light that dart
In and out like small mice dancing.
Spring is unequal.
It is Greater Than.
April 23, 1999
