She Springs Forth in Points of Green

Out for a stroll, on a shining spring morn
the Widow Wyile halts to attend
the many marvels all around
the spring gurgles amid the melt
bubbles forth among rounded
rocks and swaying weeds
birds flit and perch, hop and fly
earliest of small flowers
open their sweet sturdy petals
and then she senses Spring Herself

In points of green she springs forth
springs upon the chance to dance
full of verve and bounce
sings to the wakening land:

Grasses always dance from the root up/
blades sway and swash
buckle down to the ground
when winds whistle through
sibilant symphony of strands
greens that shimmer
sound like the sea
lithe and swift
roots strong and supple
mingling with others
grasses dance above and below
where rhizomes rhizomes rhizomes
sound their sonorous reverberations
dart pulses through the dark
rootlets’ fine filaments
weave and wend
where earthworms shimmy
microbes gambol in millions
glorious vitality manifest
nourish nourished nourishing 

Arise from your winter rest
my dears
emerge renew
come dance my dears
from the root of your
own true selves
whoever you are
wherever you are
let grace and joy
wave your tips
join hands
spring your smiles
ah liberty
oh revelry