I sense your light tread along the chalk plain
The wind dying at your feet.
Winters music fading
The wild howling of wolves subdued.
A conspiracy of ravens flocking to their high perches.
You enter the woods, brushing past the goat willow coming into bud,
The church tower a quiet sentinel to your passing
As saplings quiver in the shade.
And through the dappled glades you go,
Blue bells and birdsong ringing.
You are my spring.
The snap of frost, birds on the wing
The nest flown, branches budding
Wind blown, heart thudding,
The promise you bring.
You lean on the gate by the sheep fold
And hold buttercups to my throat
And garland my head with sweet violets and marsh marigold.
Dandelion seeds descend like the fall of breath
On slow drifting, whispering streams
Fields all dressed in gold and greens,
Resplendent in a sudden fall of rain, a rush of petrichor,
Pastures and clearings flourishing again
Hazel and Whitethorn bursting into leaf.
You are my spring, like ransom and woodruff, intoxicating.
You are the call of buzzard, heart strung and floating on warm air.
Breeze stroking my shoulders, lifting my hair.
Tall pines swaying, domestic dogs baying,
The call on the wind that cries ‘ follow me’.
And l follow like summer in your quiet footsteps
Wood sorrel and moonlight shining as you fade softly away
Purple vetch bows it’s head and curls its fronds over your path
Nettle and comfrey bullishly pushing past. And you are gone.
Yet l carry on,
For in the soft breeze of a summers night
I catch a trace of wild cherry and feel the wind stroke my face
And l feel the hearts’ race of the earth beneath my feet
The rising of sap, reaching. I remember
Innocent youth dancing in the meadow
As the cuckoo calls, and the heart sings
In constant wondering. A spring awakening.
© JL Brain 2017