Mars

 

Spring has sprung.

Dandelions and daffodils

grow at the roadside

where birdsong is sung,

The field of green dotted

with buds of sunlight yellow.

Buttercups and daisies,

a bouquet of plenty

as the sky opens,

a shower to feed the

nourishing earth.

A mother to all who stand

upon her strong shoulders.

The first sprigs of rebirth

for hungry life to find its way.

 

A jogger strides across my eyes,

Smiles a wide grin, says hi,  

as the gently sun shines

from on high.

A sign that life is returning

after the cold death of winter.

Child in a buggy,

pushed by phone-cradling mother,

looks amazed

at the way the flowers sway,

and I think to myself,

don’t stop seeing

the magic in the everyday,

for it is all around us

in the way the world plays.

 

Springtime days

evaporate away

into moonshine nights.

Mars sits in the sky,

diamond lights twinkling bright,

as the march hares run through my mind.

Another season has sprung.

Time's cycles keep turning their wheels

as I listen to the choirs in my head,

shedding the overcoat of winter dread,

to put on the jacket of hope.

Life reborn, one day at a time,

and the fawn-like mind inside wobbles

on the canvas, inspiring the writer to play,

for an artist’s life is all in the way

we see the little aspects of a day.