Monday, February 28, 2011


My heart hung all winter long
held up by the generous arms of the white oak
its many branches striking quite a silhouette
against an all too often bleak sky,but

this metal heart was right there with me
her tinkling glass beads and brass bells cheering me
as they were moved by the cold north wind,
even during the blizzard she held on (as did I)
and today she dazzles me with her beauty,
reflecting the sun's rays under the heartache blue sky
It is coming, I can feel it,taste it,hear it
Spring is sending out her arrival song
I hear it in the icicles dripping
feel it in the angle of the sun's rays on my face
taste it in the warming air that ascends
up my being awakening a primal memory
of what this force
changing its garments
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  1. Dear Suz, And your beautiful poem made me feel it too! Such a joyous posting which captures absolutely that perfect blue sky and the sparkling wind have made my heart skip a beat as the arrival of spring comes nearer through your words!

  2. Oh enjoy this coming of Spring in all her finery, wearing garments of the finest of silks in brilliant colours. May your heart sing with joy.
    It's our first day of autumn, a gentle blue sky day. Already the sting of the summer sun has gone. I shall be looking for the rich colours of the season - the yellows and reds and oranges and browns - rich warming colours.
    The dance of our seasons continues.

  3. Oh Edith it comes nearer every day
    and my heart has held its song for so long....I want to sing blossoms
    thank you for commenting so
    Ah Marilyn, I feel in a way a bit sad for the leaving of summer for you, for I remember the feeling all too well..that sense of loss
    the going inward...But it is just a garment change after all..isn't it? I look forward to wearing yours when they arrive... And you will enjoy a good fire in the hearth, simmering soups..flannel..wool..

  4. mmmm, the chimes, emerging from the cold, reflecting once again the joyful rays of the sun...spring is here!

  5. Looking forward to the spring myself.


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