Waiting for Spring to Come

An icy forest exists. And there, the animals had fallen asleep for long winter. But not Erica, she was wide awake and waiting for spring. "When? When? When will it come?" she asked Brother. "Use your amazing eyes," Brother told her. "Come and tell me when you see it."

Erica went outside and went to the lake near the house. She was touching the cold water, looking for spring. Sadly, the lake was covered with ice. Then she made a sad face and said "I can see that spring is not here yet."

So Erica got back to the house. She took a piece of fur and a piece of wood and started analyzing them deeply. She fell asleep and dreamed of warm, sunny spring days.

Early in the morning, Erica went outside again, and this time she found a hole in the ice. She raced back to the house to tell her brother. "Brother, the ice is melting! I can see it. Is it spring now?"

"Use your ears now" Brother told her. "Come and tell me when you hear it."

Once again, Erica went to the lake near the house. She tried to listen through the hole in the ice, listening for spring, but she only heard the winter wind.

"Brrrr! That does not sound like spring." Erica repeated while going back to the house. And again, she had a dream of warm, sunny, spring days.

Late in the afternoon, Erica heard music. "Brother, the birds are singing a song! I can hear it. Is it spring now?"

"Use your nose this time,"Brother told her. "Come and tell me when you smell it."

Erica went to the lake one more time. There she found a tree and sat near it. She raised her head and sniffed.

"Ooooo! Something smells fresh and green. Smells like....mmmm", said Erica.

Near the water, she saw the appearance of many colorful flowers. Carefully, she looked at the trees that were getting green.

"Brother!", She called. "Spring is here!"

Brother smiled. "How do you know, Erica? Did you see it?"

"Yes, the ice and snow are gone. Spring looks green!"

"And did you hear it?"

"Yes! The birds are singing. Spring sounds like music!"

"Did you smell spring, Erica?" Brother asked.

"Yes! Spring smells fresh!"

Erica came closer and whispered in Brother's ear, "I know something else about spring, too," she said smiling.

"Hmmm," Brother said. "What could it be?"

Spring writes a story!

Light and Dark Suns

As the black sun rises, darkness falls upon us.
Colors change from light to gray
As they are lost in the shadows of dusk.
They are lost like tears in the rain;
The faces of trees lose their look,
As if their hair falls out as we try to grab them;
When the bright sun rises,
Darkness is forgotten, and brightness is remembered.
Shadows of darkness evaporate and disappear,
like a puddle on a sunny day;
They are replaced by the shadings of light;
It seems as if darkness hides from us, and cannot be found.
Light and dark both hide and appear;
Like a storm;
Bringing fear and chaos,
But also calmness and peace.

Harmony

Clouds- why do you disperse so?

You give way to a light that casts no shadow on this ground on which I lie.

The morning sunshine does not penetrate these shadows you have cast upon my heart- dear Clouds,

You sprinkle fairy dust upon a tiny piece of atmosphere in this universe

So sweet—

You turn each breath into the last, dear Spring;

Honey trickles through these walls of frost,

And they melt into a flower-

I know not of which kind;

T’is the kind from which this fairy dust is extracted

And enchants my soul into an eternal dance of smiles and giggles.

Oh, how you turn each gust of wind into song;

And the birds!

For, how they burst into a melody

That rests upon my windowsill each morn-

I know not if it’s a dream or a haze to which you trick our spirits.

You release these troubles so they might enter another universe and replace them by your melody.

The spring which runs down that mountain you’ve created

Becomes a fountain of dew;

A mere drop runs through the thirsty soil on which we stand

And gives birth to a tree.

I climb this tree with you dear Spring;

I climb for eternity.

And when the rain, snow and droughts come,

Your song guides me and my soul

Slips past the cracks in the frost and dances and drinks your honey

So that it might go a bit further.

You come and go as the wind blows

But these branches on which we rest

Contain traces of that fairy dust— dormant or not,

They insert a gleam into eyes that have so long been cast upon the ground

Spring Rain

Raindrops fall

down plastic umbrellas of dark coffee shops
musty with the stench of coffee beans mixed with deep thoughts.
Women stir their half –empty cups;
speaking fast,
speaking slow;
whispering.

Sinatra coos slow songs as men
watch people scurry through wet streets;
time to spare
time to kill
time to save.

Thick books with thin pages
lay open as the teenager drifts longingly
to sunny days,
to schooless days,
to better days.

The rain drips
and drips
and drips.

As we drown spending days
stuck in limbo,
dancing in limbo;
in raindrops that fall like the heavy beat of a heart.

Merciless.

Strewn across coffee tables,
T.S. Elliot
whispers secrets of what
the thunder said.
Notes in margins,
scratched in pencil.

Miserable at best as
I watch puddles on the coffee shop floor.
Rain drops dance down plastic umbrellas
Whispering.