AFTER THE VERNAL EQUINOX

Quiet drumming on the shingles,

Rivulets run down the slope of the woodland floor,

Flood the naturalized daffodils as the drums beat louder,

Splatter the improvised reservoirs of rain water,

Dammed up behind the moss mounds,

Spread around the sides with channels of current swifter than the drums,

Carry specks of winter’s earth, bits of leaves and brown evergreen needles,

Water the earth’s crust and flow east.

Rivulets join channels join reservoirs,

Patch and cover winter’s bare earth;

A gradual slope slowly erodes and levels,

In a shallow backyard flood, the drums beat louder.

The sun’s heralds recede before it arrives,

The drums are silent, the water seeps into the earth,

Drifts into the woodlands;

New light spreads across the moss mounds,

Flows in rivulets and channels around the tree trunks,

Fills in every fissure of the earth’s skin,

Highlights hollows, ripples, and wrinkles,

Meanders and cascades along the sinuous veins,

Shadows tall pine spires and deciduous tree branches,

Illuminates newborn translucent leaves barely unfurled,

Drenches a multitude of azalea blossoms clustered,

Creates a thin, breathing membrane in vibrant Technicolor;

Pollen spreads in clouds of green and yellow dust,

Seeds sprout and start the arduous climb towards the sun.

All of this,

After the day and the night are equally long,

After neither half of the earth points directly at the sun,

After the northern hemisphere’s vernal equinox,

After the first day of the sun’s New Year. 

© cmheuer, 2013