Spring is coming Spring is coming Spring is coming
Fingers pulling up from a basin of water, dripping porcelain
Like oil across your forehead,
Little rivers, static removed,
The new comes with the old—
But the old comes off!
How can it be that the rain can give so much joy?
Spring means new,
It means new life,
New second chances,
I am home for spring, and it feels like I’ve never been in a home such as this;
No explanations this time,
And yet I’m cared for.
Dang is it nice to belong somewhere!
It feels like yet another something broke last Sunday,
But like a warm compress on old wounds,
Something more healed.
If I could be an animal, I would be an otter,
I would never get out of the water,
I’d coast through beautiful rivers and lazy streams,
If there are any otters left that still do that.
I’d be a lone otter, if that’s what it takes,
Can you imagine lying on your back all day, and for the majority of your time
Just coasting in a watery grace?
It’d be like constant baptism,
An everyday renewal,
It would be like peace coming down from the skies,
The thunder rippling out, peals of chaos issuing forth from the heavens,
And a green-grey tone to the water,
Me a mermaid, coasting by.