Light of an Instant: An exercise in first lines

 

"Early Spring in the Woods" by William Frazer (1885)

 

A light exists in spring’s nude trees

refracted by the almost buds

of yellow pink red and green glow

about to burst, to sugar flood.

 

But not yet, not yet!  Let us have

more breathing space in this short pause—

passage from wood to trees—shhh—a

miracle!  Ready your applause.

 

One neighbor explains pre-budding,

dulling the spectacle with sounds,

but stops to breathe and to admire

the fuzzy color that astounds.

 

It’s a slower transformation

than can transfix us, yet I feel

it’s brevity as change occurs

in each turn of my own great wheel.

 

Should I have taken time to see

that "colorful" transformations

move me—I might have tendered more

delight than desire my light diffuse.

 

Dear trees, birch and cherry, maple

and more, revealing your sweet light

reminds me to laud positive

change, no matter how brief or bright.  

 

April 4th 2023 Prompt at The Linnet's Wings: Using the first line of  "A Light exists in Spring" by Emily Dickenson:

A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period --
When March is scarcely here

A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake.
But Human Nature feels.

It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.

Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay --

A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.

 My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright.

© 2023 Susan L. Chast