The Hands Of Spring

Rustles in the leaves obey the strokes in vernal fingers
flowers silently to bend unto the gentle sway
from the hands of spring.

Inward the mystical caress arouses that renewal in essence
as eyes and soul succumb to the spell of awakening,
carefully watching the vitality flow over soil, seed and sky
slowly arising within as a blossom of airy sensations
while surrendering to each scenic dance
utterly embracing it as a lure in pure aliveness
and the wind calls your name
and the day burns its brilliance into your spirit.

Suddenly like a dawn all life assumes a magic glow
every detail of creation summons its own inspiration,
happily allowing that energy its conveys
bring such intensity unto the heart.

Until even the smallest creature waltzing through the blades
tugs at the insides with their own special melody.