Friday, 18 September 2015

V. 2. / 12.) I Couldn't Say The Day The Leaves Came Out




I couldn’t say the day the leaves came out
When from winter’s death, spring came rushing up
Surging through the stem of me, waking me from sleep
Taking my part, taking me with it to use me again
From a time of barrenness to new flower and leaf
And soft painted pages of new sap wordlings
The timing of it never ours we cannot guess the day
Or know how much warmth and sunlight our spring needs
Or when inner rest has run its full course and won
And at last reaches up the stem to brave a new day
That our springtime will come again is certain
The world is round... never ceases to be so
I’m glad I don’t know the day my leaves come out
Glad my surprises come by surprise



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