Ave Primavera By Boreegard

Although it doesn't feel like it, yesterday was the first day of spring. To celebrate that fact and share some more poetry, here is another fabulous seasonal offering from Boreegard.

AVE PRIMAVERA

Jesus’ favorite season was spring of course,
Riding with slender palm leaves in his hand,
Buddha liked going barefoot through the new grass,
Letting its tender leaves tickle his toes, and later
Geoff exclaimed and prologued his love of the virgin greening,
With his “Whan that Aprille” and his “shores sote.”

Robin, goldfinch, nuthatch, jay,
Celebrate the flowering bush and limb
On the warming mountainside,
With sweet songs and pip-pip-pippings,
While down by the stream in the wet places,
Skunk cabbage pushes its determined self
Up through the glistening muck,
To give the honey bee its first taste
Of pollen after so many sullen winter days.

The young sun warms us,
And warms the billion billion seeds that Nature
Has caused to rest in armored dormancy.
See them thicken and sprout,
At first pale weaklings—
Prey to the hoe and the voracious pecking birds,
And then strong contentious things, fighting for their share
Of the life-giving elements.

Wake up, slugabed,
Winter has left us and,
It’s time to stir once again—to prune and mow and plant,
To stretch and scratch,
To wet a trout line,
And slap the pesky mosquito.

AH SPRING!



Boreegard