Spring

Spring pushes up
Little and slowly
From the deep core
Pushing through the cold
The frost
Softening the earth
Last years leaves
mulching into next year greens
The white dead sits on new green
As it slowly sprouts
Reaching to the sky
To the height
Spinning off this surface
Off the land
Off the spinning core pulling it back
Pushing out
Reaching for the sun
Reaching for its loving embrace
It's wash of warmth
It's magic heat
Opening the world
Feeding it full
Of a world
Perfectly adapted
To live
Again

Roll around the year rolls on
And it will roll into death again
And again
But it always comes back
It always pushes up
And springs.