When everything
unfinished
is ok (if only for
a moment)
I stop what I’m
doing
and step outside to
notice
the splendor of
spring
I rejoice
When the morning
sun reaches
under the cedars
and the wind off
the lake is calm
the gentle, rich
fragrance of violets
hangs in the air
I breathe deeply
When wild leeks
rise five inches high
and the trillium
begin to bud
the painted turtle
suns himself
on a log in our
pond
I smile
When the song of
spring peepers
fill the night air
in a delicious,
deafening chorus
a gentle breeze
comes
through our bedroom
window
I give thanks
