Spring Life

In my part of the world where seasons are perennial you can notice spring warmth returning a variety of life little by little. First the trees and bushes bud in preparation of a flower or the fresh green of early leaves.

Then come the  earth pokers: Daffodils, Crocus, Hosta, Peonies and Tulips. They all peak their pointy noses through the mulch and left over fall detritus as if to see that it’s all right to growth forth.

Instinct

© 1995, 2013 Rolland G. Smith

Spring buds will poke from ’neath the sticks

Ascending to a raying sun,

Reaching and teaching all the rest,

That trying lets it be the one.

It cares not how it started there

Nor if the frost will take its bite.

Its instinct finds the noble path

To push between and find the light.

It shares the water and the ground,

No drop nor space more than it needs.

Between the rocks on frosted crust

Soon it flowers, and then it seeds.

The splendor of the leafy plant

Belies a dry and sandy loam.

The beauty found within the seed

Will find a place to make a home.

How can it be that we don’t see

This could be true for humankind?

The gift within each living soul

Seeks shaped expression nonaligned.