Flora (from Primavera by Sandro Botticelli, c. 1480)
A week of resisting this poem here by
my computer and there under the cherry trees.
Inside and outside in this marvelous spring abundance:
The lilac and wisteria and azalea and dogwood are all
about to push and pop into bloom in shades of white,
purple, pink, red, yellow and sweet sweet air, intoxicating
tones over the smell of cut grass and pines. Green and brown
smells key notes of well-being, soft and hard underfoot.
I pause now to grasp all, breathing with blood pumping,
my only seasons being life and death. I choose life.
Every spring I know I’ll drag my feet when leaving
this incarnate existence. Even expecting I could
become part of it in a different way, I want to stay.
Posted at earthweal weekly challenge: THE TEEMING
My blog poems are rough drafts.
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© 2021 Susan L. Chast
Me, too. We want to stay. It is so beautiful here. Spring especially arrives like a miracle every single year. It never gets old.
ReplyDeleteWith the teeming comes defiant life: a vibrancy heavy with the steely resole never to let go. Why else would life keep finding its way back from extinction to abundance? What else can life, and us, choose? Amen. - Brendan
ReplyDelete