The changes are subtle and
easy to miss.
Raspberry canes reddening,
willow twigs yellowing,
the almost invisible
purple points of skunk cabbage,
breaking through the forest floor,
exactly the same color
as the muck from which
they emerge.
Not yet the season for courtship,
a new voice has joined the winter throng.
Energetic song sparrows singing their certainty,
proclaiming to the wide world
their confidence
that the time for mating will
not delay.
unconvinced the time is right for opening its eyes,
like the thaw that teases before
the cold refreezes the earth,
transformation comes fitfully,
confusingly,
erratically,
unpredictable but incessant.
For this we wait,
offering ourselves to Love's warming,
unable to speed the process,
unable to shake off winter,
unable to hasten spring.
Our promise is
the earth's promise.
Growth wins out
as surely as buds break and
fruit forms and
trees reach their branches
ever farther towards
the sky.
