Wakening

Part of the Passion series


 

Spring came suddenly breaking winter’s hold

Sun faint dreaming, despite the cold,

Past the bud, of flower, rooting

Up through the dull earth and shooting

Green from the slumber laden life,

Unheated, untouched by breath and light,

Stirring, unfurling, strengthening,

Straightening till lip meets lip,

choirs singing of days lengthening,

anticipating love’s drowning kiss.

 

She hasn’t replied, the inbox stubborn,

Insisting there is no mail. I wait listening – 

“You have mail, baby”- replicate

every hour        junk binned      growing

Alarming auto message, ‘you are close to your limit.’

I am! I wait       still       heart stilled cold waits

Sure it was the last  – pressed ‘send’, wondered

‘Is it too strong?’ Thought she would say ‘hey,

enough. Back off, cool it. There is time

for this and this is not the time.’

 

Light pulled upwards stretching thin

Fingers bud blooded break winter’s

Back: streets whiten, green, crisper are,

Arcing up from memories of dark          legs beating

Naked              thigh high         spring sing:

Autumn’s ties   fashioned         warped to flesh

lie discarded: the bright plumage

is that of light, life yearning flesh.

Such an awakening this wakening!

 

Shall I compare thee to a bird, stranger?

Estranged the I drifts, clouds within clouds,

Raindrops rumbling, storms without thunder,

Charmed by your Winter. Still I sleep,

Fallow, waiting for the turn. I

Feel the plough approaching.

 

Untill me, take off these folds

Let me drink the spring that springs in you.

© Bhi 2021
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PilgermannBM

I like the structure you have created in this poem; the wakening of spring and the desire for life to burst forth, together with the passion, which has been dammed during the winter, just waiting for a touch to ignite it.

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