tree of stars, tree of kisses, woven from bird song and delight
the humble blackthorn, its majestic explosion, through blossom, into glory
prunus, yes, hmm prunus what? latin genus neglected, for me it shall be: prunus flagrante!
five petalled, eternal symbol of venus aphrodite
the waft of almond and cyanide, underscored by the aroma of Ransoms from the island… fetid, fruity
a dangle-age of catkins, the riverbank is home to alder, hazel, willow
alders still stuck over with last years cones, chameleon prismatic tree, observed from most directions, it is sparrow brown, cheerful, yet something of the dowd
yet, walk close spun around, suddenly it catches the light – pouts purple… a soul which blinks indigo
by the river all is the fresh foam, bubbles, the drift of maya
hazel, quicksilver skittish, ever bright shining
whilst willow, the first in the race to leaf, grass snake medusa green
yes, but poke a willow wand somewhere in the earth, it will leap to leaf, such the regenerative potency
spring is a current, flowing, flowing through the land
and i? why, whilst washing up, mired in thought, my litany of sorrows, the ledgers of resentment, strictly tallied
and yet my body, a swift jitterbug staccato, gyrate, pirouette then body pop!… caught up by cadence and foible… the river of spring flows even here
if you could know music, you would whistle an unheralded tune…
but i glory more in dance … 3 times, i repeat the physical refrain… a spell in sinew, a postulation… this, the importance of acting out
a half smile, my mind dwells momentarily on it, as though following through a chess strategy ‘hoppety knight jostles reluctant bishop?’
then, well, shake it off… shake it off baby!
hunched over desk, mind quagmired in code
yet somewhere, i am walking, this pilgrim stride, onwards, onwards to avalon
brow turned upwards to the light
eyes of stars, eyes of kisses, woven from bird song and delight
it is spring
