Winter’s End

green is bursting all around; resplendent
as the axeblade-shock northwind gives way
for the occupation of the land by life anew
if northwind caws then warmwinds coo
and jasmine starts its ascent to sun again

young ones race up and down their streets
finally released into lifeloving and laughter
no more numb and glowing faces now
no noses damp with mama’s worry
its the season of their growing

papas want their yards just so; perfection
mighty generals of the mower-war
assassins of the choking, mischief-plants
who spring up overday to mine the field
with cockleburs and thorny caltrops

mamas get to exhale for moments
no longer generating amusement like
lovely organ-grinding statuettes of grace
before the summer sporting starts
and frenzied taxi-races rule the day

the birds admire their handiwork
screaming hatchlings of continuance
soon to put on summerwear and spring
outward from their twigged homesteads
to taste such freedom as we never know

neighborcats inspect low-angled fiefdoms
slinking like downhill mercury
through hawthorn towers green and redding
they gather at the foot of oaks
and bemoan the lack of good help anymore

faithful fidos patrolling endlessly untiring
the borders of familial comfort-places
sounding alarm-shouts just in case
the postman begins to live his labor
and greet the tall ones gleefully wiggling

the firmament azure glows renewed; crisp
like it just left mama’s dryer
warm and comfortable sigh-making bliss
providing blue-hued backdrop
for raptors all, organic hushed fighter planes

the cotton-clouds are no longer unbound
you see, this is their season of permission
humbly begging leave of sky
to race across his zephyred plains again
until sudden sadness causes then to weep

above all is that overseer of millennia
great Sol, grandfather of the life-spark
tracking across that sapphired landscape
like the good god’s flamed war-wagon
sleepy now, but summer’s rage approaches

his partner breathes in deeply, she
the Mother Earth is drowsy
but alert to the beehive congresses as they
buzz in wordy honey-dripped exchanges
she stretches languidly and laughs

the mother’s attire, the waving cerulean
water-wear teams with diving secret-keeps
the life-friend of all breathing things
you see,  the loveliness around is hers
emerged from her cobalt vaults long ago