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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