Weekly Photo Challenge: Spring

reaching, but
mornings she knew
only white

Lessons

On the Sun’s day, she called for a walk,

so I obliged, and listened to the birds of Spring.

They sang to each other, but left me out of their songs.

My steps were slow, while walking, to know.

And back in the woods, so far that I was alone,

they began to come, each at a different place

on my path: those that I fear most –

the snakes. They wound right to me, looked through

my eyes, never stopping – though I could not

move. They each wore different clothes, but none

feared me; they approached. Stopped.

Spoke their silence. Froze me in the leafy moment.

Seven times, seven snakes, seven silences,

each of them with something to say.

In the tenderness of morning, the fog

wraps the horses in promise and paints

the yellow blanket soft. The horses

speak their quiet, feel their Spring,

dance their velvet noses in flowered field.

Silent are the pines, watching

through dew drop eyes, hanging

their needled peace in the foggy morning.

Early morning hoof prints mark time,

yellow daybreak, flowery fog of pineful watch,

and I am silent with wonder.