Mother Earth embraces hope, in the absence of her enemy.
She smiles at our insignificance, our arrogance, the irony.
For Mother Nature flourishes, as we battle to survive,
She struts her stuff with joyous pride, as we contemplate our lives.
Winter’s darkened days
now stretching minute by minute
to meet a lightened sky.
And I emerge slowly,
verdant tip of spring,
peeping from behind
Gazing, into this small window of time,
I see stories unfold on crisp pages,
I see beauty in this window of mine,
Butterflies escaping cocoon cages,
Bright eyed wings uncurl all in a flutter,
on the branch of the tree with the green leaf
Browning, drifting, crinkling, joining clutter.
Dear window, in mind’s eye, such a brief
journey, to glimpse a faraway place
I know not when I shall see once again,
or feel the cold pinch, the hot slither lace
down to the fingers, wrapped around a pen;
In need I am of the window I see,
That gathers dust and is locked with a key.
Upon the Derwent I shall row
You sit in stern, and I in bow
Let’s drift away then wave by wave,
Play hide and seek in high and low.
I whisper, things I dare not say,
You blush, you smile, and look away,
Our eyes meet in waves beneath,
And this is how we play, all day.