The Language of Spring

First flush of life
on the Corkscrew Hazel.
Fat, fuzzy promise on the
Saucer Magnolia
whispering pink glory-to-come.
Tulip, Daffodil, Hyacinth
bulbs straining from
sodden black earth.

The frigid sting of winter
finally breached
to wash away snow, ice.
Song birds burst the air
with trills and whorls
re-claiming spring nests
abandoned last summer.

The language of these rituals
tease us through long
winter months of frost and cold
and despite the brilliance
of sun on the snow-glazed landcsape
we yearn for green to replace white
warmth to nurture our bones.