Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Come, Spring

Come, Spring,
and irrigate our souls with color;
braid the sweet lean drape of forsythia
to crown our heads,
kiss the bright tulips
into our lips,
and pour the deep purple
of iris and violet
into thirsty veins
longing for an end
to winter's drought.
Fill our ears with birdsong;
ignite our hearts
with hope,
and invite our souls
into the promise
of new life.


Susannah said...


violet said...

This is gorgeous! I feel the same way.

Maureen said...

"braid the sweet lean drape of forsythia": such a lovely line and image, Diane.

The entire poem is an invitation.