It’s the leaves in spring, about to bud .
Which swell and greet the coming flood.
Of warmth, the surge a
puddle of mud.
On branch, on twig, on every stem.
Chlorophilled life is hidden within.
A waiting blossom,
A patient leaf.
An insect becomes the quiet thief.
Will furl it’s wing, take to the sky.
The blossom, a bee to the pollen will cry.
An ode to glorify this day.
Its spring again
It’s life anew
It’s bud, blossom and green leaf too.
In this all abundant day,
We rejoice we laugh and say:
Yes yes yes
The beauty of life is true.